#as it is my manager texted me wanting me to close when i was Boarding A Plane I Told Her About The Week Before

[paintedlepard]

So I've been listening to a lot of DnD podcasts lately while at work (specifically Just Roll With It's main riptide campaign) and of COURSE it made me think about putting my OCs into a dnd/fantasy setting

So here's my oc Ava (they/them) as a half-elf Rogue-turned-Undying-Warlock being very menacing shortly after making their deal!

Brief overview on their story in this au under the cut :)

They *used to be* a pirate with their friend Cae (any pronouns, tiefling rogue), but on their adventures they were hit with a powerful curse that almost claimed their life many many times in a short span of time. The two of them looked everywhere for a way to help Ava, but it was becoming increasingly clear that this curse was going to kill them faster than they could do anything about it, so Ava went behind Cae's back and made a deal with something that could benefit from all of Ava's near-death experiences!

This freaked Cae out so bad that the two of them got into a MASSIVE argument, leading to Ava being completely kicked off of the ship and having to fend for themself. Ava is an idiot though and treated their deal as a one-time transaction and kept searching for ways to actually *remove* the curse instead of just taking advantage of it through their patron.

On this mini-quest to study all sorts of magic they meet Shay (he/they, artificer dwarf) and Sophie (she/they, aasimar bard) and set sail again! They make their own spellbook and everything (read: take another rogue level and subclass into arcane trickster) and their patron gets Big Mad about it, so from that point forward ava is locked into their contract with their patron and doesn't do... Anything to jeopardize that relationship!

There are so many other people in the party and theres so much more that goes on to mirror the canon universe but i feel Embarrassed with three paragraphs already and will save ya'll from my rambling until i inevitably post more pts!dnd au art! :)

[steddieas-shegoes]

Eddie loved flying. When the sun was out and he could watch the cars and houses get smaller while they reached altitude. When everything felt a bit lighter and his stress was under the clouds.

He did not love flying when the weather was bad.

In fact, he’d joked with the flight attendant that maybe they should delay the flight until the wind and dark clouds passed, but she just laughed and said the pilots were used to it.

Good for them. Eddie wasn’t.

He always sat in the window seat in first class, usually had some old businessman on his way to close a very important deal next to him. That wasn’t an option for this last minute flight though, so he was in the last row of the plane, leg bouncing nervously as people continued to board.

“As a courtesy to those around you, please stow your personal items under the seat in front of you as soon as you are in your seat. This allows a faster boarding process for all of us. Thank you!”

The announcement was a reminder that Eddie was flying without his usual carry-on items. His tour manager had packed him a checked bag and sent him on his way.

So he had his phone and his wallet, and eyes looking out the window next to him watching rain start to hit the tarmac below.

“Excuse me, I think that’s my seat,” a man’s voice said from the aisle.

Eddie looked over and saw a long line of men roughly his age in matching track suits, backpacks over their shoulders, and the Notre Dame logo on their jackets.

They were all tall. Well, all except the guy talking to him now. He was pretty average size.

“Uh. I don’t think so man. I’m 36F,” Eddie answered as kindly as his nerves would allow.

The guy checked his phone, brows creasing together.

“I’m 36F.”

No fucking way was Eddie giving up his window seat.

“Is there a problem?” A flight attendant asked from behind them.

“We’re both supposed to be in 36F?” The guy held his phone towards the attendant.

“May I see your boarding pass, sir?” The attendant asked Eddie.

Eddie pulled his own phone out, holding out the mobile boarding pass for her to see it.

“Sorry sir, it looks like you should be in 36E.”

Oh no.

Oh god no.

A middle seat?

There was no fucking way.

“I’m sorry, would it be at all possible for me to be in a window seat?” Eddie didn’t want to cause problems, but his chest was starting to clench and his breaths were coming in short pants.

“Unfortunately, this is a sold out flight. We wouldn’t have any available for you.”

He could feel eyes on him, quite a few of them, but none as obvious as the guy who actually belonged in 36F.

“We can just switch, man. No big deal.”

Eddie sighed with relief.

“Thank you, yeah. That’d be great.”

The attendant nodded and gestured for the guy to sit down.

Someone behind him sat on his other side and they immediately started talking as if nothing had happened.

See? Eddie had actually done them a favor! Now he could talk to his teammate for whatever sport he played and Eddie could watch their impending demise through the window.

The plane was rocking back and forth from the force of the wind blowing outside and the sky continued to grow darker despite the early afternoon hour. Eddie was considering sending a goodbye text to his band when he felt a hand on his arm.

“Hey, you okay?”

Eddie’s eyes widened as he turned to look at the guy next to him.

“Do you normally get nervous when you fly? Or is this your first time?” He continued. “Sometimes it helps to just close your eyes during takeoff.”

It was kind of him to try this, truly, but Eddie knew kindness wouldn’t save them if lightning hit them.

“I’m just not a fan of storms.”

The guy was watching him while his teammate on the other side of him talked to the guys across the aisle. Eddie was surrounded by this entire team. The irony was not lost on him that he spent so much of his youth expressing disdain for sports ball and might die among a group of sports ball players.

“Steve.” The guy nudged his shoulder against Eddie’s instead of offering his hand, an odd thing to do but the contact was grounding.

“Eddie.”

“You wanna hold my hand?”

Did they already die during takeoff? Did Eddie somehow end up in heaven?

This very attractive man, who definitely didn’t even know who Eddie was, was offering comfort in these trying times. Offering to hold his hand!

“Uh.”

Steve smiled. “It’s okay if not, but I figured it might help you focus on something else.”

“Sure.”

Steve held his hand out, palm up, and Eddie laced their fingers together.

“So, Eddie. Tell me where you’re off to.”

Eddie breathed in, breathed out. “My Uncle. He’s getting his appendix out so I’m trying to get there before he wakes up.”

“Oh. I had mine out when I was 10! Is he okay?” Steve seemed genuinely concerned and Eddie felt his stomach swoop.

“Yeah! Yeah, they caught it before it ruptured. But because of his age, they said his recovery might be a little rough so I’m gonna stay with him for a week to make sure he doesn’t overdo it. He’s a stubborn old man who’d probably be pulling weeds from his garden within hours if I wasn’t going so.” Eddie looked back out the window. Fingers reached under his chin, turning him away from the window.

“Eyes on me.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Eddie nodded and squeezed Steve’s hand.

“Good.”

Fuck.

“So, you’re close with your uncle?” Steve asked, as if he hadn’t just turned Eddie’s entire world upside down.

“Mhm. He basically raised me. More like a dad,” Eddie whispered out.

The pilot was making an announcement, but you couldn’t pay Eddie to tell you what it was for. He barely even noticed that they were backing away from the boarding zone.

“Do you visit him often?”

“As often as I can. My job keeps me busy,” Eddie shrugged, not really wanting to give it away, didn’t wanna give Steve a reason to look at him differently.

Eddie was gonna soak up this attention as long as he could.

It was actually helping distract him.

“I get that. I mean, I play basketball for Notre Dame and it basically is a full time job. We travel so much, most of my classes are online. I hardly ever get back home to visit my family,” Steve admitted with a sad smile. “Luckily, they come see me at my home games when they can. Does your uncle get to visit you sometimes?”

Just as Eddie went to answer, he caught lightning out of the corner of his eye and his entire body tensed.

“Hey.” Steve’s voice was firm, drawing his attention away from the window quickly. “Keep your eyes on me. We’re fine. Just you and me talking right now.”

They were nearly at the runway for takeoff and it was getting harder to focus on Steve’s words, the warmth of his hand in his, the fact that if it were truly dangerous, they wouldn’t even be cleared for takeoff.

As the plane sped up, Eddie whimpered.

He’d be embarrassed later if he survived.

Steve’s hand pulled from his and wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him against his side while his other hand cupped the back of his head and kept his face against his chest.

“Just breathe. I’ve got ya.”

And really, if the plane went down in flames, no one could save them. But hearing it did help, especially with arms holding him so tightly, he almost didn’t even remember he was on a plane.

But not quite.

The wind was strong enough to make the takeoff rough, shaking the plane more than usual as it left the ground.

Eddie’s hand gripped Steve’s shirt so tight, he would probably cause a tear if his nails weren’t so dull.

He stayed like that while they continued to climb above the clouds, the air pockets making the flight a bit more turbulent than Eddie was okay with.

He felt the vibrations of Steve talking, but didn’t hear him, didn’t even know if he was talking to him or the guy next to him who probably thought Eddie was an idiot.

The pilot made an announcement he didn’t hear, but he figured if he was gonna die, he could die against the chest of a nice, hot guy.

“Worst of it’s almost done, babe,” Steve said, lips against the top of Eddie’s head.

Gareth would never stop teasing him about this if he ever found out.

Being consoled by a sports ball guy during a flight he’s taken at least 30 times in the last two years.

New low? Maybe new high if he managed to get his number.

Steve’s fingers played with his hair, and he slowly felt his body relax.

His last thought before drifting asleep was how nice it was to be held like this.

***

“I think he’s probably a cookie guy.”

Eddie’s eyes blinked open to Steve’s voice quietly rumbling in his ear.

He’d been adjusted at some point so his head rested on Steve’s shoulder, one hand against his chest.

He couldn’t remember the last time he fell asleep on a flight. Maybe the last time they flew to London from LA right after a show?

And those had been perfect flying conditions.

He lifted his head as he rubbed at his eyes and tried not to let the butterflies take over when Steve’s hand squeezed his hip.

“Hey sleepyhead. You want cookies or pretzels?”

“Cookies always. Please.” Eddie yawned.

As he took the package of Biscoff cookies, he noticed how smooth the flight was and the sun shining through the window.

Steve’s arm stayed around him.

The entire flight.

Even after he’d gotten up to use the restroom.

Even when there was no real reason to offer him comfort anymore.

Even when they landed on the runway in Indianapolis and the seatbelt light turned off.

Even while they talked to each other the entire flight, sharing the smallest details about themselves as if it was a first date.

“Would it be okay if I get your number? I’d like to check on your uncle later if that’s okay,” Steve asked, suddenly seeming more nervous than he had the entire flight.

I’m “Yes! Yeah, please,” he quickly typed it into Steve’s phone, putting his name as Eddie M 🛫. “Uh, thanks for, ya know, helping. Kind of embarrassing.”

“No reason to be embarrassed. It was scary.”

“Yeah. I just figured I fly so much, I should be used to it.”

“You never told me what your job was,” Steve nudged him as he pocketed his phone.

“I didn’t.” Eddie almost didn’t wanna ruin this. But he’d figure it out or find out and then it’d be worse. “I’m the lead singer for Corroded Coffin.”

“Is that…a famous band?”

The guy on the other side of Steve smacked his shoulder. “Dude, one of their songs is on our locker room hype playlist. Dustin’s obsessed.”

“Shut up, Lucas. You know I have my own playlist!” Steve turned back to Eddie and rolled his eyes. “Sorry. So you’re like famous.”

“You could say that,” Eddie hated saying it though, at least in these situations. “You really didn’t know?”

“Nah. I’m more of a pop and 80s kinda guy.”

“Maybe you could send me a playlist? Ya know, when you check on my uncle later,” Eddie suggested.

“Sure. I’ve got a two and a half hour bus ride back to campus to work on one.” Steve smirked. “You gonna be alright now?”

“Yeah. Thanks again. For taking care of me.”

“Anytime. Anything you need.”

And Eddie was pretty sure he meant it.

[azzo0]

She's the one.

Inspiration: this

Summary: You bring an umbrella and a warm drink to Bakugo while it's raining. And that's when he knows- you're the one for him.

Pairing: Bakugo x f!reader

not proofread <3

Katsuki left school in a hurry while his friends were still packing their bags and taking their sweet time chatting with each other. His old hag had asked him to bring some groceries on the way home. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he sighed, checking the list of groceries his mother sent over text. He could get them from the grocery store near his house. 

He put his phone back in his pocket, walking down his usual route home, when he felt a drop of water fall on his nose. He wiped it, frowning when he felt more drops of water fall on his head. He looked up to see it had started raining. He didn't have an umbrella with him. 

"Fuck."

Meanwhile, back in class, you were helping Uraraka clean the classroom since it was your guys' turn today. You hummed to yourself, cleaning the chalkboard, the sounds of tapping on the window catching your attention. You opened the window, holding your hand out, feeling the cold drops of water fall on your palm.  

"It's raining, huh?" Uraraka said, adjusting the desks. 

"Yeah," your mind went back to your spiky-haired friend. You were aware he never had an umbrella in his locker. "Katsuki must be cold..."

"Aw, are you thinking about Bakugo?" Uraraka teased.

"Shush. I was just wondering if he has an umbrella." 

The brunette took the board eraser from your hand, giving you a smile. "You should go after him. I'll finish the rest."

"No, it's okay. Let's just finish-"

"Oh, hush, y/n. I said I'll take care of rest, right?" Uraraka handed you your bag. 

"Thank you, Ochaco." You grinned, running out of the classroom and down to the lockers. You took out your umbrella, opening it when you stepped outside the school building. It was pouring heavily now, accompanied by the cold wind. You shivered, pulling your blazer up to cover your nose. Katsuki must be soaking to the bone, you thought yourself.

And he was.

He muttered a string of curses, grimacing at the feeling of his shirt and blazer clinging to his skin. He hugged himself when the cold air hit his already wet body. This is why he hated rain. It did nothing but irritate him.

He stopped in his tracks when he heard someone call his name. He stood there, eyebrows knitted in concentration as he tried to listen through the pitter-patter of the rain. He glanced back to see a girl running towards him in the distance, calling his name. 

His chest warmed when he saw it was you. The girl he'd grown close to over the last few months. The girl who managed to drill her way into his head and make him feel butterflies just by her voice. The girl he wasn't sure he wanted to be 'just friends' with.

You stopped in front of him, almost slipping. You panted, grinning at him with your cheeks flushed from running. Bakugo gulped, his heart dancing. 

"You left without an umbrella." You said.

"So you came running here just to give me an umbrella?" Bakugo raised an eyebrow. He noticed you clutching two paper cups of something to your chest.

"Yeah, I knew you didn't have one." You said, holding out the umbrella for him to hold. Bakugo grumbled, taking the umbrella. You gave him one of the warm cups you were holding.

"What's that?"

"Hot chocolate," you replied. "I grabbed these on the way. Thought you were cold."

He took the drink from you, looking down at the cup in his hand, feeling his face heat up. "Thanks..." he mumbled.

"No problem!" You grinned. "I just came to give you these. I should get to the bus stop now."

"Wait a damn minute, you idiot." He held the cup and the umbrella in the same hand, grabbing your hand with the other before you turned to leave. "What about you?"

"What?"

"Yer going to get wet."

"Oh, don't worry. The bus stop's not too far from here."

"No. My place is just a minute away. You're coming with me. Don't want you blaming my ass when you get sick 'cause I took your umbrella."

"I-is that okay?"

"Of fucking course it is." He snorted.

"Alright then." You blushed as he held the umbrella in between you two so you were both shielded from the rain. 

Bakugo glanced at you walking beside him, bringing the opening in the lid to his mouth to sip on the warm and sweet liquid. He studied your side profile, the sleeping butterflies in his stomach waking up. Warmth took over Bakugo's previously cold body. You ran all the way in the rain just to give him a warm drink and an umbrella. How could he not fall for you?

She's the one, his heart murmured. Bakugo subtly smiled to himself, shifting closer to you to relish your warmth.

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Girl Next Door- Pt. 2

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Word count: 3k

Summary: Simon finally accept your offer for dinner. Did you mention you can cook?

A/N: I was a little slow on this but the idea of them getting close was stressing me out, okay? Also my MIL was in town and I couldn't get in the groove. All the support so far is amazing, thank you guys so much! If y'all like it there will be more to come. Warning: still slow burning

Join my Taglist

Part I

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Simon sits across from you at your tiny dining table pressed against the wall of your cramped kitchen. You managed to lure him in with a fairly nice bottle of unopened scotch you found in the back of your cabinet that had potentially fallen into one of your own boxes when moving from your ex's house. 

He looks around your quaint little one bedroom apartment. It was a lot different than his own. The literal layout was the same. No extra rooms or walls but you’d done something different in here. The whole space had a cozy feeling to it. Every surface was decorated with useless gadgets and trinkets that he didn't understand the purpose of. Lots of blankets, pillows, soft things. You had music quietly playing through your TV speakers in the living room. A few lamps fill the dim room creating a subtle yellow glow that hits the high points of your face, softening your tired features.

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" you suddenly blurt out.

"S'cuse me?" Simon asks, caught off guard by the question.

"Lately I've been feeling like there's something inside of me that attracts horrible guys. Like, is there a beacon coming out my head that says 'hey, come over here. I'm vulnerable and easy'."

Simon pauses, unsure how to respond. He watches your face closely. You're sad eyes looking to him for an answer he doesn't have. "I think you're...nice," but he has a feeling that's not what you wanted to hear.

"nice?" You let out a humorless laugh. "Maybe that's the problem. Nice must translate to doormat," You sigh and drop your head into your hands. 

Simon takes a sip of his drink. He's growing concerned this is entering too friendly territory. Then you pop your head back up.

"So, how much did you hear?"

"Not much"

"Yeah right," You toss him a coy smile. “Can I tell you what happened?”

“Sure,”

“Alright, so” you take a sip of your own drink and a deep breath before recounting your story. "I met him at work. He was really nice and offered to pick me up a coffee on his way in one day. I haven’t made any friends at work yet so it was nice just to chat over a coffee. Then we started having lunch together. Nothing serious just in the break room but it felt good to hear about something other than notes from my editor. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, I mean I moved here to focus on myself not continue dating more crappy guys. So of course he started texting me and he was really sweet. He complimented my outfits and thought all my jokes were hilarious apparently. I really wasn’t trying to get involved with this guy though. He said something about hearing I can cook and of course I said I do. It’s part of my job, duh. He’s giving my shit about it so I invited him over for dinner. I made this creamy potato gnocchi with Italian sausage that I got from that great butcher on the corner. I even hand rolled the gnocchi. I mean, who wouldn't kill for an authentic Italian meal?"

"He's sounds like some guy"

"Not really, I was testing out a new recipe for the column so, two birds one stone. Anyways, he comes up and we have some wine and listen to some music. It was going really well so far. Then I go to bring out a nice charcuterie board for an appetizer while the pasta finishes baking. While I'm bringing it to him I can see he's on his phone, texting someone and literally giggling. I walk up behind him and he is sexting. On my couch!" you throw you hands up incredulously. "Well, I thought he was. He’s looking at a picture of some girl bent over then I realize it’s me. He took a picture of my ass, while I was making him dinner. I couldn't fucking believe it. What kind of a scumbag does that to a woman preparing a fucking meal for him? Now, this is not something I'm proud of so let the record show this is very out of character for me but these were extraordinary circumstances. So, I dropped the fig chutney on his head. Right in his stupid quaffed hair. He jumps up and he's all mad and starts yelling and I'm yelling back. He calls me a crazy bitch then I call him a perv. After that he left." you conclude with a shrug.

"Wow" Simon responds, truly taken aback by the series of events. 

"Yeah, then you know the rest from there. I don't know what came over me. I guess after my last breakup I haven't felt very good about myself and this guy made me feel, I don't know- fun? That feels silly to say. I should’ve known better from a guy that works the celebrity gossip section. I probably looked like a big baby out there, how dramatic. I'm sorry about that, again."

"You don't need to apologize."

"After I moved here I thought things would be different. I thought guys in the city were classier I guess. Turns out all guys are the same. Just take what they want and go. Do you want another drink?" You point to his now empty glass. 

"Sure." You snag his cup and stand. He watches you walk over to the counter in your silky slip dress. The sleek fabric clings to your waist. Flaring around your hips and down your thighs. The warm light reflects on the shiny material, shifting with each step you take. It tightens perfectly about your waist and cinched with a neat little bow in the back. He wonders why you would wear a dress like that for this guy.

"So, do you date?" you question in a seemingly casual tone.

"No" 

"Yeah right," you laugh and look over your shoulder to see his stoney expression and your smile fades. "Oh, sorry, I just- I find that hard to believe."

"Why is that?" He tilts his head and you focus back on filling his glass. 

"It's just, you're a good looking guy. I would think you'd get plenty of female attention," You pivot back around and place the glass before him. You lean on the table with one hand and prop the other on your waist. 

"'M not interested," his gaze stays fixed on the brown liquid, grabbing it and taking another sip. He doesn't miss the way you deflated the slightest bit. 

"Maybe I should take a page out of your book, as in maybe swearing off men completely" The oven timer dings. "Oh! pasta!" You jump over and grab your oven mitts. You drop the oven door and slide out the sizzling dish. An aroma of cheese and basil fills the air. Your stomach audibly growls.

You pull down two plates from your cabinet. You serve up the steaming pasta, sprinkling parmesan and fresh chopped herbs for garnish. You proudly carry over the two dishes and place them carefully on the table. You place your hands on your hips while gazing down at the platter.

"This looks...great." Simon is truly taken aback by the incredible looking dish. 

"Wait, don't eat yet. Let me get a picture." You scamper into your living room, grabbing your phone off the coffee table and scurrying back. You hold your phone high above for a birds eye view. Simon scoots his chair back to avoid the gaze of the lens. The camera clicks with a flash. You examine the photo, seeming satisfied with the quality and finally taking a seat in your own chair. "It was okay if you were in the picture. I don't mind." 

"I do," he says simply. 

To anyone else, Simon comes off as rude or callous but you, you never seem to let his shortness affect you. You take his words and just keep going. You don't mind his lack of conversation. It seems you are totally satisfied with having someone there to listen. He was starting to think he didn't mind listening so much. 

"Oh," You shift uncomfortably in your chair. "Sorry then. Well, let me know what you think. Try to be detailed with your feelings about it if you can. You're my guinea pig and be honest. I don't want to put this out when it's garbage."

He proceeds to take a forkful in his mouth. He cannot control the groan that escapes his throat as the bold flavor hits his tongue. This is far cry from his usual take away food. He can't remember the last time he had a home cooked meal now that he thinks about it. 

"This is quite good." He grumbled between bites. Not caring to finish chewing before he's stabbing at the pasta on the plate once again. 

"Really? You don't need to be nice to spare my feelings. I don't mind criticism."

He shoves more in his mouth. "I’m serious"

"Thank you" You giggle watching him scarf down the still steaming hot meal. 

The two of you finish your respective plates without much more conversation to be had. On your last few bites you meet Simon's eyes as he reclines back in the creaky wooden chair, hands laying across his stomach. His head tips back with a satisfied grumble making a proud smile play across your lips. This may be the first time you've seen him express a true human emotion in your presence. 

"There's more if you want?"

"No, I'm stuffed." 

If you know one thing as a part time chef, food is the way to a man's heart. You knew if Simon tasted what you could make his ice exterior would melt away. You stand up and walk to the fridge. 

"Too stuffed for dessert?" you pull out a glass bowl filled with layers of custard, strawberries, cake, and whipped cream. "I made a traditional English trifle. Y'know for the holidays coming up and who doesn't love custard?" you shrug while carrying the bowl over to the table. You hurry back to the kitchen to grab two saucers and plate up the dessert.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to butter me up." he comments, intently watching as you carefully slice through the layers. "What do you know about English food?" 

"Not much, which is why this is a special occasion. I can get some insight from a genuine Englishman," you slide the saucer to him. "Everything happens for a reason, I guess you were meant to be here tonight" you don’t realize how weird that comment is until it's already left your mouth. You suppress the feeling and internally cringe. You take a seat with your own plate and try a bite. "Hey, that's not too bad. I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud"

Simon actually chuckles when you compliment yourself making you giggle in return. This whole night is very different than you expected. Not that you were complaining.

Your leg bumps his underneath the narrow table. Your bare foot brushing up the edge of his pant leg for the briefest moment. A deep blush rises to your cheeks the second you realize it's his leg instead of the table's. 

"Oh, sorry!" you quickly draw your legs underneath your chair. Simon pauses his eating and meets your gaze. 

"S'alright," he slowly slides his long leg across the distance and nudges the shin of your tucked legs with the toe of his boot. "You scared?"

"What?" you allow your legs to relax, your calves sitting on either side of his outstretched leg. It felt natural, almost domestic. "You don't scare me." you're lying paired with an anxious laugh.

"No?" As he says this his foot shifts underneath the supports of your chair and yanks it forward causing your chair to skid a few inches across the tile, pressing you further into the table as you let you a surprised yelp. Hands brace against the edge of the table. Simon maintains his calm composure. "Are you sure?" he takes another bite of the fluffy dessert. 

You weren't sure if it was the liquor going to your head or the rush of adrenaline but you felt bold. You rest your cheek on your propped up hand, offering the most innocent eyes you can muster, as you delicately slide your foot along the smooth leather of his boot. Simon swallows and gently places his fork back on the table.

"What do you think of it?" you question in a hushed tone. your foot travels further up his ankle, dipping under his pant leg to feel his hot skin underneath. 

"It's sweet," He states simply but his words roll off his tongue smooth as butter. 

"Not too sweet?" You tilt your head the slightest bit.

"Hm," he hums in contemplation. Your eyes drift down to watch his hands grasp his drink. He grips the glass in his large palm. The rolled sleeves of his long sleeve reveal the muscles in his arm shifting when he raises the glass to his mouth. For the first time you notice a faint raised scar cutting through the outer corner of his lip and stopping just shy of the edge of his nose. He takes a long swig of the brown liquid, not quite finishing the drink. As he pulls back his lips glisten in the warm light. "Not bad when it's paired with a stiff drink," his tongue is quick to swipe across, collecting the residue. 

"I'll be sure to make a note of that." you smile sweetly. "Can I get you another drink?" You look down at the last sip coating the bottom of the glass. You make sure to flutter your lashes when you look back up at him. 

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" A smirk raises the corner of his mouth.

"No," you laugh. "Why, do you want me to?" 

He releases a deep gravelly laugh that makes your stomach stir. Then he glances at his watch and your stomach drops. 

"I need to get going." He mumbles. He pulls his leg away from yours and rises out of his chair. 

"Wait," you rush to stand, almost knocking your seat over in the process. "Can I- uh- get you a bit of pasta to go? There’s plenty left" Trying to think of any excuse to keep him here a moment longer. 

"S'okay, save it. Maybe I'll come by another time." He turns and steps out of your kitchen and into the hallway leading to your front door in only a few wide strides. 

"Are you sure?" You don't intend for your voice to come out as needy as it does. You follow on his heels like a lost puppy.

"I've got an early morning." Before he reaches the door he turns, seemingly surprised by how close you are to him. He looks down at your big round eyes. 

"Okay," you smile trying not to look defeated. "Well, you're welcome over anytime. I mean it, just knock and I'll probably be home. I'm gonna try writing at home more. Try to avoid that guy." You let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Maybe, you should get my number. Y'know, in case you want to check if I'm home."

"I'm alright, I'll just knock" His hand finds the doorknob. "Thanks for dinner, it was nice" Then he turns to go. Closing the door politely behind him. 

You rush to the peephole, watching his distorted figure step out of sight followed by the sound of his own door shutting. You rest your hot forehead against the cool wood grain of your door. 

You step back in the kitchen and begin putting away the leftovers. Piling the pasta into tupperware, rinsing the plates, collecting silverware. His glass remains in place with a sliver of scotch leftover. You hold the glass up in the light and see a faint smudge on its rim. You twist the cup around so your own mouth lines up with the imprint he left. You swallow the last bit slowly, savoring the way the sharp burn eases into a smooth, smoky aftertaste. You never liked scotch, but now you are starting to understand the meaning of an acquired taste.

The low atmospheric music is abruptly interrupted by an ad loudly cutting through the calm space. You rush into the living room to find the remote, hiding among the cushions and various throw pillows. Growing frustrated you end up walking over and manually hitting the power button. The silence that replaces it isn’t much better though. You step back and let your weak legs carry you until you collapse onto the comfort of your couch. The wine followed by the glass of scotch you polished off makes your head feel light but your limbs so heavy. You turn from your back to your side, realizing the used glass is still clutched in your hand. 

You reach across the gap and set it down on the coffee table with a thud. Your hand retreats back to rest under your head. You stare at it, taking in all the imperfections left on its reflective surface. Your eyes trace the rim once again looking for the smudge. On the corner you see the shadow of an impression peeking out underneath the red lipstick mark you have smeared over it. 

𝜗𝜚

Across the wall Simon falls back on his own couch. He looks around his dull apartment wondering what you have done differently to make your place look so welcoming. He never minded the minimal decorations he had. A photo frame with his team that his buddy gifted him and a couple of books always seemed like enough. After comparison though it just feels empty. 

He can hear you stomp across your floor. Footstep rushing from the kitchen until you're straight ahead. The sound of your TV turning off bathes the room in sudden silence. Only thing he can hear now is the rushing of his air conditioning unit. He considered your music annoying but now he couldn’t deny the way it added an unconscious energy to the small unit. Now sitting here, the cool tone of the overhead kitchen light illuminating into the living room he feels as though something is missing. Maybe a nice lamp would help. 

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

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[itsgivingmami]

Unyielding- Rhea Ripley

After a shocking phone call turns Rheas world upside down, she rushes to the hospital to find her roommate—her closest confidant and secret crush—recovering from a car accident. As emotions run high, the tension between them shifts, forcing Rhea to confront the truth: some bonds are too unyielding to ignore.

Likes,comments and reblogs always appreciated💛😈

As Rhea Ripley stood in the bustling airport terminal, her phone rang, its tone cutting through the ambient noise. Glancing at the screen, she saw an unfamiliar number displayed. She wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to pick it up—maybe residual anxiety or sleep deprivation. The fact that she’d texted you almost two hours ago and heard nothing back gnawed at her.

“Hello, is this Rhea Ripley?” a calm voice inquired.

“Yes, this is she,” Rhea replied, her voice tinged with apprehension.

“Ms. Ripley, this is Nurse Thompson from L.A. General Hospital. Your roommate has been admitted following a car accident.”

Rhea’s breath caught, her world narrowing to the words coming through the phone. “Uh, okay, fuck, I… I’m about to board a flight home.”

“I understand this is overwhelming,” Nurse Thompson said gently. “She’s conscious and talking with her doctor.”

“Thank you,” Rhea managed to say before ending the call, her hands trembling. Could’ve led with that, she thought, frustration mingling with relief.

She stood motionless for a moment, the weight of the news pressing down on her. The announcement for her flight echoed in the background, but her focus had shifted entirely. She handed the gate agent her ticket and headed down the terminal, feet feeling heavier than any weight she’d lifted. She sat in her seat with her hood up, trying to steady her racing thoughts.

~

“Miss,” the nurse assigned to you for the past few hours peeked around the curtain, her overwhelming positivity evident. You offered her a tired smile in return.

“I’ve been gone for three days,” Rhea groaned, her eyes scanning your body for injuries. Her hands clenched and unclenched, torn between wanting to hold you and fearing she might cause you pain. “I thought you might set our place on fire, but crashing your car and a concussion…”

“Someone t-boned my car; I didn’t crash it,” you defended yourself, though it seemed she didn’t hear you. “Hey, I’m okay,” you tried again.

“No, you’re clearly not,” she retorted, her eyes burning as they met yours. You swallowed thickly. “You’re sitting in a hospital bed with a head injury.”

“It’s minor; it won’t mess with your schedule,” you said, hoping to ease her concern.

Rhea’s eyes narrowed, her frustration evident. “Won’t mess with…?” She sighed angrily, gripping the metal rail on the side of your bed as she leaned down, closing her eyes. “That isn’t my concern.”

Her scoff confused you as you tried to understand why your roommate was so upset.

“No, I guess I shouldn’t assume you’d take care of m—” you began, but she pushed off the rail, rubbing her hands over her face as she laughed quietly.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Rhea hissed, pacing within the confined space of the room.

The tension in the room was palpable, a mix of concern, frustration, and unspoken emotions hanging in the air.

Rhea’s pacing halted abruptly, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “I can’t leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself, can I?”

You opened your mouth to respond, your voice soft. “I mean, I’m fine, so it’s oka—”

“No,” she interrupted, her tone firm and edged with frustration. “It’s not okay. Not when I feel like I’m going to go batshit fucking crazy, thinking about you being hurt.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of her words settling over you both. You reached out, your fingers brushing against her hand, offering a silent apology and seeking reassurance.

Rhea’s gaze softened at your touch, her fingers intertwining with yours. “I just… I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

You squeezed her hand gently, your eyes meeting hers with a promise. “I’m not going anywhere,” you assured her.

Rhea’s eyes, previously stormy with concern, now softened as she gazed at you. The tension in her shoulders eased, and she took a tentative step closer, her fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The warmth of her touch sent a comforting shiver down your spine, grounding you in the reality of the moment.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

She shook her head slowly, a small, tender smile playing on her lips. “Just promise me you’ll be more careful,” she murmured, her breath mingling with yours as she leaned in, the proximity creating a charged intimacy between you.

“I promise,” you replied, your words a mere breath against her lips.

The space between you seemed to disappear as Rhea closed the distance, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both gentle and profound. The world outside the hospital room faded away, leaving only the sensation of her warmth enveloping you. Her lips were soft, moving with a tenderness that spoke of unspoken promises and deep affection.

As the kiss deepened, her hand cupped your cheek, her thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin. The connection between you was palpable, a silent communication of love and reassurance that words could never fully convey.

When you finally parted, both breathless and hearts racing, Rhea rested her forehead against yours, her eyes closed as if savoring the closeness. “I love you,” she whispered, the words a sacred vow between you.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice filled with unwavering certainty.

I don’t know what this is I was high and inspired and then came back to it…🤷🏻‍♀️😂

[the-midnight-blooms]

me and my husband | psh

pairing: CEO!park seonghwa x scientistwife!reader AU: modern au word count:  6.3k

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In the midst of a fragile soul dwindling under the aches of animosity, the married couple laid in bed with their backs facing each other. The husband, Park Seonghwa, an esteemed CEO of a pharmaceutical company ‘Park Pharmaceuticals.’ had the front board of the book lodged into the silk casing of his pillow with his other hand steadying it so he could still, quite painfully, scan his eyes over the text. Agitated, he got up with a grunt before sitting up to finish the chapter of his book. With his scientists publishing reports on the latest medicine they were developing, he immediately rushed back to his university textbooks to affirm he was still equipped with the necessary knowledge to understand the science. Meanwhile, Mrs Park- a research scientist at Park Pharmaceuticals' rival company, ‘Kim Pharma.’ was battling against her insomnia despite motherhood knocking her straight off her feet. Their daughter, Park Dami, was fast asleep in the room next door to Seonghwa’s study cuddling the little Toothless toy he had gifted her when she was still a cherub. It had seemed that Mrs Park was prone to falling asleep at the most odd times of day, whether it be during dinner or cleaning the home.

Perhaps it was the heartache she was suffering from. The love that she had held for her husband was a permanent fixture, a vow that she had promised not to break, and one she had not and never would for as long as she lived. However, the increasingly distant behaviour from her husband in light of his burgeoning role as CEO had her heart yearning for him. Being a mother was difficult and of course, so was Seonghwa’s job. Yet, he also had duties as husband and a father, which he seemed eager to abandon altogether.

���Why can’t you try to understand how difficult it is for me to do all of this? So much pressure at work, then I come to you going on about some stupid dinner with your parents!” He shouted, she flinched at the dissonance of his noxious tone reverberating off the walls of the small study- biting down at her lip.

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave.”

“Sorry, my arse. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be fucking nagging in my ear all the time, would you?” He barked, as she sped out of the room. It had been three weeks since she had, politely and quietly, asked her husband if he was free to attend her mother’s dinner party. He refused, erratically, and despite having apologised with saccharine kisses and diligent promises, he didn’t turn up to dinner in the end.

“Oh he’s busy Mum. He’s seeing to some of the lab work, you know how stressful it was for me.” Her father complained light-heartedly, raising how unfair it was of him to neglect his family.

“Do you want to me have a chat with him? I can give him a good word.” Hastily, she steered her father away from that direction. The last thing she needed was Seonghwa to turn around and blame her for the earache her father would give.

With a relentless sigh, she sat up reaching for the bottle of water on the nightstand. His eyes flickered at her movements, lips moving up and down to form the shape of the words as he silently committed them to memory, forming judicious links between the knowledge and application.

“Seonghwa.” She called out for him, he hummed in return, barely reeling his eyes off the page. Please look at me. “I was thinking about going back to work again. I contacted my manager about restarting and at the moment I would only need to go in for about two days or so.” Shutting his book close, he finally met her stare, deep in contemplative thought.

“Do you think you can work and take care of Dami at the same time?” He questioned. She had thought about this several times before she dialled in her manager’s number. As much as she had inherited her father's kind-hearted nature, stunning beauty, and soft-spoken voice in the end it was the passivity she had drawn from her mother naturally rendering herself subservient to prioritise ones needs over her own. Essentially, if she had told Dami to keep her lips on a tight seal and remain of the sofa the whole day: she would.

“I’m sure I can as long as she's in sight. She'll be in nursery from September, so I'll be able to start work.” He fell a little quiet, turning to drop his book onto the night stand.

“Ok, if that’s what you want. If you need me to come home earlier, I mean I can’t at the moment, but in a few weeks time if you need me to-then I will.” Nodding, she sent him a grateful smile before sliding back under the covers to turn her night light off.

Her heels clicked, exasperatedly, on the porcelain white floor dashing straight through the double doors; her heart pounded furiously against her chest, a violent ache gnawing at her arteries. With her body almost barging into a number of figures, her anxious apologies echoed into the swamped corridors, in which her colleagues shook their tired heads in annoyance. Finally, reaching the top floor she scuttled out of the elevator catching the eyes of Mrs Lee.

"Lab coat, darling, lab coat." Squealing, she unbuttoned the off-white coat, scowling at the permanent pen marks and splashes of iodine before handing it to Mr Kim's assistant. Mrs Lee, threw the coat onto her seat, gesticulating for the young scientist to follow her. After a short knock, the heavy glass door was pushed open; several pairs of eyes darting their way.

"Ah, Miss Cheong! How nice of you to join us!" Hongjoong exclaimed, a teasing glint in his eyes that wanted to make her wipe the smirk of his lips.

"My apologies, Mr Kim, we ran into a problem down at the lab." She explained, a blush forging on her cheeks as a grave set of eyes burned into her skin.

"No worries. This is Miss Cheong, she will be our project lead on the next Kim-Park program." The Kim-Park program was founded by Kim Hongjoong of Kim Pharma and Park Seonghwa of Park Pharmaceuticals. With both companies leading the pharmaceutical industry, both founders decided in order to produce a greater economic boom, and serve an excellent supply chain of mandatory medicine; both of their greatest minds could work together to create poignant breakthroughs in the scientific sector. After all, the two companies had the countries top scientists working for them but together they could very well improve the nature of modern medicine. Hence, today both CEO’s came together for a kick off meeting establishing the blueprint for their next, biggest projects.

"'No worries?'" A derisive voice arose from across the room, where she snapped her head to find a man with wide eyes and thin-rimmed square glasses that sat at the bridge of his long nose, staring back at her. His long, slicked back hair that fell past his ears as he, mockingly, cocked his head to the side in amusement. "I didn't know Kim Pharma tolerated tardiness, Mr Kim." Returning his stare back to Hongjoong, he raised an eyebrow anticipating his answer.

“What was the problem down at the lab?”

“House fire." She retorted, "And I had to assign interns some lab work. Kim Pharma doesn't tolerate tardiness Mr Park but your project manager doesn't seem to be here? We'd have valued him being present at the kick off meeting." His face heated red in embarrassment as he gritted his teeth.

Park Seonghwa was insufferable.

The worst thing about him wasn't even that he was pedantic and scrutinised her work with a keen eye, or that his sharp attention-to-detail left her wanting to force him to chug a beaker of concentrated hydrochloric acid. It was that under his strictly co-ordinated demeanour, he was a beautiful man blessed with an angel's aura. It was that he was tall and that his voice could hypnotise her; send her lunging over a precipice into the expanse of uncharted oceans. At times his allure had her wanting to excuse her pathetic hatred. They bickered at every meeting, every email was sent with 'Regards' rather than 'Kind Regards'. It wasn't long before the bickering had transgressed to shouting in the boardroom as he began to question her teachings, snickering at every intellectual point she made as if she had not graduated from university with the same degree as himself.

"You forgot to add that cisplatin is a cis isomer." He stated, as she sat across from her in his office. This time, she didn't bother to retain herself from rolling her eyes. "A problem, Miss Cheong?"

"Who's reading this report, Mr Park? A high school student or the manufacturer? Any man with common sense and college level chemistry knows that cisplatin is a cis isomer. Do you want me to also write down that it has a square planar shape with a bond angle of 90 degrees?" She snapped, leaning back in her chair with a disgusted look. He smirked taking off his glasses, cleaning the lens with the hem of his blazer sleeve. Dear god. Sedate me.

"No, but you do need to explain how cisplatin works in detail. It only works as cis isomer, not trans. You didn't specify that."

"You're incredibly pedantic." Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his perfectly defined nose, the smirk remained fixed on his lips. "I'm not surprised people are handing in resignations, at your company, every week."

"They can leave if they wish, lazy people don't contribute to Park Pharmaceuticals' success." Oh and he was cocky too. As well as being a pretty face full of wits, Park Seonghwa was also wrought with egotism that made her want to wrangle his gorgeous, slender neck. "Have you ever considered joining our company?" A snicker escaped from her lips which eventually transcended into a laughter that wholly baffled him.

"I'm afraid I'd be a part of that sorry statist-,"

"I'm sorry for being an arsehole, Miss Cheong. Can I make it up to you?" And when she questioned him how he would make it up to her, he proposed the idea of a date. All he wanted was her, regardless of her much she was everything he was not. “Go on a date with me, please.” He blurted, with her feet rooted to the ground and lips falling into a thin line his heart palpitated within his chest. He sought the way her hair fell over her shoulders in light waves having ripped it from its knot after she walked out of the lab. Her pink lips were practically begging to be touched by his, he wanted to soothe the symphony of weary sighs that dispersed from her, and the headache that wracked her brain from his abstruse behaviour. Above all, he was falling in love with Miss Cheong because he despised her in such a paradoxical way. He hated the way she was smarter than him and beautiful in the way that she must have been carved from the clouds of heaven.

It often made her giggle at Hongjoong's astonishment when she handed him the wedding invitation. His excitement when he ripped open the seal to read Seonghwa's name as the groom, dropped the smile from his face as he looked at his college friend.

"You're marrying the enemy?" She shook her head at him, almost scolding him for deeming Seonghwa the 'enemy'. "This isn't what I meant when I said 'Fuck Park Seonghwa." Lobbing the pillow at his head, he dramatically sunk into his sofa as their childlike laughter eructed into the blithe atmosphere.

It had felt like a distant dream now, to be loved and adored in the ways that he once did. To be held as if every touch was their last, to be kissed as if their lips would never meet again and they were lovers in the midst of an age-old war that would tear their nimble hearts apart. To have her husband again and not a dispassionate demon who tore past the gates of hell and inflict all the condemned’s curses on her.

Giving you my all, giving you my everything. Laying my life down at your feet, stripping myself of my own honour just to feel something by you. A glance, a breath, a sigh. You tell me to leave- I don’t mean anything to you anymore.

"Hwa, you could have at least told me you weren't going to go in the first place. Then I wouldn't have gone to the company party." Sat at the foot of the bed, he pulled the jumper over his torso, pulling his trapped hair out from the neck hole. He bit his tongue as his wife rebuked him for his absence, once again. "Do you know how humiliating it was for me to be the only one sat without her husband there?"

"I told you I was going to run late."

"You were four hours late, and you're a half an hour drive to the office! Why didn't you say no, in the first place?" Tearing the earring out from her lobe, she sunk into the chair trying her hardest to not slip into tears; the sympathetic stares of hundreds etched into her memory. How stupid did she look for being dressed so ostentatiously, when the real jewel was not even in her possession? The clatter of pearls emptied into the drawers, hands buried into palm of her hands closing her eyes to relive the myriad of dejection. They never said marriage was this painful. Hard, yes. But not painful. "Hwa, do you love me?" She inquired, turning around in her seat.

"What?"

"It's as simple as you think. Do. You. Love. Me?" Her voice wavered as she asked him, the distant stare in his eyes revealed answers to the questions that she did not want answered.

“If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have married you. Or given you a beautiful daughter. I miss one, silly, company event and you start throwing a tantrum.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve completely abandoned me!” Her shout restituted off the thin light blue walls, jumping from her seat at his petty arguments. “You are such a terrible husband and you make me feel trapped in this marriage!”

“And you fucking suffocate me! You suffocate me!” He roared across the room, his strident tone penetrating through her, grazing down the surface of her heart. Rupturing the weak seams that held it together. Stumbling backwards, her palms gripped onto the mahogany table; shaking, biting down her lip to prevent a sob from escaping. "The only time I felt like I could ever breathe, in this marriage, was when I was not with you. When I was at work, or with the others, or just anywhere else. But never with you." Dipping her head, away from him, she shut her eyes as tight as she could.

"Please stop." she whispered, a plead so quiet it almost went unspoken. Yet Seonghwa heard it anyway because no matter how angry he was, their souls were still intertwined. Their hearts beat as one, they were uniform, one whole being. Slowly, he treaded towards her, mimicking the dip of head.

"Why? Can't you take the truth?" he mocked. Full tears pooled in her eyes, her chest burning from holding in her breath. "I should divorce you." He proclaimed, without a stutter. That was enough to break her. An obnoxious wail infiltrated into the void of the room. Was that what he wanted? To provoke some sort of emotion from her to satisfy his ego? He scoffed, before darting from the room-slamming the door shut behind him. Wrought with tears she trudged to her bed, slipping under the covers; sobbing herself unconscious.

"Mummm. Ammiii. Ammaaa." A small voice whispered, the softness soothing the persisting ache in her chest. Holding back the smile ready to break through, she fixed her eyes shut waiting to see what her daughter would do next.

"Dami, let your mother sleep. Come on." The urge to smile had dropped instantaneously, the familiar sense of forlorn gushing into her again; his sweet, addictive voice puncturing holes into her heart.

"I'm hungry." She could hear the pout on her daughter's lips. Huffing, she groaned loudly snapping at her daughters attention, who jumped up and down in excitement of her mother awaking. Reaching out for her child, she picked her up settling her down on her laps. "Mama, I'm hungry." She squeaked.

"Have you washed up yet?" She shook her head. "Ok, let me go to the bathroom first. Then I'll help you."

"I'll help her wash up." Seonghwa offered. Refusing to look at him, she simply gave him a curt nod, the sight of his face wanting to make her erupt into a fit of sobs.

"I promise I'll never make you cry." He had promised, before their marriage. They sat under the stars, the cool wind brushing at their cheeks. Astronomy books sat scattered around her as she attempted to map out constellations in the beaming night.

"And if you do?" She challenged, playfully smirking. With a cute frown he gave her a nudge.

"I promise I won't but in the 0.00001 percent chance that I do, then you should leave me. You’re worth more than the moon to me, and to hurt you is the deadliest sin I can commit." He immediately leaned forward to swoop her into a deep kiss- both of them smiling as they did. The memory of his now-broken promise brought tears to her eyes again. Tightly pressing her palm to her mouth, to hold back her cries, she sucked in yet another breath. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

Gripping onto the bathroom sink until her knuckles bled white, her knees hit the floor. Nicking the handle of the tap- tears freely flowed down her cheeks as the water rushed through the basin at rapid speed. I want my baby back.

Feeling the heavy burden of a collapsing marriage, her shoulders sunk as she chopped at the onions, preparing their dinner. Dami sat on the stool by the kitchen island, with her mini crayons scribbling over the pictures in the colouring book.

“Mama, why did Appa sleep in my room yesterday?” Scraping the onions into the pan, she grabbed the wooden spoon to stir it.

“He was missing his little princess. He wasn’t causing you trouble, was he?” She teased, sending her a forced smile. God, it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay happy. To smile was to pain her cheeks, they felt more contented relaxed than to uplift and radiate an aura of joy that didn’t seem to exist within her anymore.

“He’s so big, I fell off bed.” She snorted, laughing at her child’s proclamation. It was not long before a thought occurred to her that whenever they slept in the same bed- it was always her that took up the most room-rather than him. A fond memory occurred to her, specifically a night where her body was plastered to his.

“Ah, jagi, can you move a little? I’m up against the window?” Her body shuffled slightly to the left, giving him room to breathe a little bit more. “Thank god.” He huffed out a sigh of relief, her lips fell into a pout- as she rolled further away from him towards the edge of the bed. If space was what he wanted, then she was going to give it to him. Seonghwa’s arm outstretched for her, the cold air battering his skin was no comfort, he wanted her again. A tantalising laugher infiltrated the air, he shuffled closer to her pressing his lips to the top of her head.

“Never mind I need my cuddly bunny.” He sang, nestling his face into the crook of her neck. Now, she couldn’t remember the last time he had held her so close to himself. If anything, he needed the space now and rested just less than a metre apart from her each night.

“It was nice! Appa is a teddy bear.”

“Am I, my princess?” Turning away from the doorway, she opened the cupboard to reach for the spices, shielding her melancholic face away from him. The sweet dissonance of giggling entered her ears, if he had no love to spare for her at least he had enough to spare for his daughter. “Ahem, I’m going on a business dinner tonight.”

“Ok.” Seonghwa watched her, resting his hand on the top of his daughter’s head who went straight back to colouring in the flowers in her book-switching to a pink crayon at that. “What time will you be home?” He shrugged, then quickly noticed that with her back to him she wouldn’t see.

“I don’t know. Don’t wait up.” How could he say that knowing that there wasn’t a night in their marriage where she didn’t sit patiently on the sofa, waiting for him to come back home. Even on the days where he warned her he’d be back a lot later than usual. Regardless, she’d stay plastered to the sofa switching from the tv, to her phone, to a random book-eyes continuously flickering to clock- skipping to the kitchen to shove snacks into her mouth, as she’d never eat without him.

The urge to erupt into a fit of sobs inclined, chewing on her lip violently provided her with enough solace to finish making dinner, feed her daughter and put her to bed. Then at last, when she closed the curtains to her bedroom, a hushed cry escaped her; spending the rest of her night as she did prior, wailing and wailing until fatigue had lulled her weary heart to sleep. The creak of the door went unnoticed to her, Seonghwa crept in; her sleeping figure rested in the bed, the comforter dragged over her head. He sighed, contemplating whether to slip beside her or retreat back to Dami’s room for the night.

This sequence continued for the next few weeks, every night she would cry herself to sleep and Seonghwa would sleep in Dami’s bed. It wasn’t even their room at this point, it was hers with Seonghwa’s things in it-just like her flat pre-marriage. Her room with Seonghwa’s books, few pieces of clothes and odd bits of trinkets. One morning she woke up to find a stack of papers on her nightstand. Fear coursed through her blood, were these the divorce papers that he had suggested to her? Rifling through the papers, her heart soothed as soon as she realised they were just Dami’s crayon drawings. Stick figures of Appa, Amma, and little Dami in the middle. Drawings of flowers, then one just of Amma and Appa, a big heart between them. If only that were true. If only his heart still beat for her the same way hers beat for him.

She heard his voice trail out of the study, as she almost raised her hands to knock and summon him downstairs for lunch. The rapid muttering halted her movements, instead she tentatively pressed her ears against the door to assess the situation.

“Yes, honey, I’ll be there soon…She’s pissing me off right now. I’m trying to get the papers set at the moment…I don’t know about a few more weeks?” Slapping her hand to her mouth, she squeezed her lips shut to prevent any pained sounds from releasing. Honey? There was another woman? And the papers? Was he really, truly, trying to divorce her? Rushing to the bathroom, she slammed the door shut, flipping the tap back open to relive the same endless cycle.

“I’m going on a work trip to Japan, for a week. We have an important business meeting. I might need you take care of Dami by yourself.” His head snapped from up Dami’s unfinished Lego project. She’d fallen asleep when playing, so her father took it upon herself to finish building the set.

“You should have asked me beforehand. You can’t just accept to go offshore, and then give me a week’s notice.” He scolded, playing with the pink block between his fingers.

“I only got told today. I tried to call you whilst I was still in office, but I couldn’t get through to you.” Sighing, his shoulders slumped as he shook his head in disappointment. It appeared that Mrs Park was also refraining important matters from her husband; making decisions of her own that they promised they’d always make together. An uncomfortable silence remained suspended in the tense air, shifting uncomfortably in her spot as she awaited for him to say something else. Even if it was to belittle her, she urged to hear the sound of his voice.

“If you cared enough about me, you’d know I’m busy too.” Chewing down on her lip, she held back a painful sigh. There it is. “We’ll be with my parents for a week while you’re gone. When’s your flight?”

“Sunday night.” Nodding, he scooped up the remaining pieces on the floor pouring them back into the packet before getting up himself. “I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

The work trip to Japan was just as tranquil as she anticipated, the host company was as hospitable as they could be. The days were cut short, the air silent subsiding one into deep thought, even if they denied themselves the pleasures of having to think. With her knees tucked up to her chest, she stared out onto the vast market of skyscrapers, the teeming arena beneath contributing the noises that fell deaf at her ears. She needed to leave the home, its confining airs strangling the lumen of her windpipe. She didn't exactly know what to do now that it was confirmed: Seonghwa did not love her. The declaration was enough to send her into delirium, enough to have her jolting up at night; drowning in cold sweats, preaching his name like a mantra. The flight home did not come soon enough, she boarded the plane with such eagerness and drenched even further in pain when she was assigned the seat next to her colleague and her husband.

Nervously, she dialled in his number once more hurriedly, tapping her feet against the cobbled footpath; her free hand latched onto the sweaty handle of the suitcase. Pick up, pick up, pick up. Being met by the voicemail service was disheartening, wrapping her arms around herself as the wind blew harsh against her skin sending a ripple of goosebumps over her.

"Mrs Park, is your taxi late?" Whipping her head around to find her colleague, she shook her head in dismay. "Do you need a lift? We don't live too far from each other."

Pushing through the large wooden gates of his childhood home, she adjusted the straps of her back pack lifting her head to find the blaring of orange lights through the slits between the window blinds. A small bustle of activity could be heard from the other end, tentatively, her fingers rose to provoke the silver door knocker.

"I'll get the door!" His voice floated through the surface, reaching out to caress the aches on her skin bruised wholly by him. As soon as their eyes met across the doorway, the smile was wiped clean from his lips. “Oh god, I’m sorry, it had completely slipped my mind-,”

“You don’t forget things, Hwa. The truth is: it didn’t slip from your mind, you just didn’t care.” You haven’t cared about me for a very long time. You haven’t loved me in a long time. I am no longer your wife but just Dami’s mother, to you. Though some sort of vile emotion named fear had prevented her from saying those words, becoming lodged at the crux of her throat, floating on the tip of her tongue.

The worst thing was, he didn’t say anything. He was silent, unwilling to reckon against her and fight for their marriage again. When did he become so passive? Up until now, when was there a day in their relationship when he didn’t fight to keep her at his side? Trudging into the household, the warmth lacerated her skin, taking off her shoes as the pattering of small feet came her way. A small body engulfed her larger frame, the delightful giggles of her daughter infiltrated her ears as her mother finally came home to her.

"We ate sooo much food. We had tteokbokki, dakgalbi, ramen. Halmeoni tried to make me eat yaksik but it was nasty." Letting out a tired moan she fell onto the floorboard, Dami crawling on top of her, as her mother-in-law stuffed her with enough food to last her a century.

"Ugh, Dami. Please get off Amma, my tummy is going to explode."

"Halmeoni! Amma ate too much!"

"Your Amma didn't eat enough!" Eomeonim shouted back from the kitchen. Seonghwa ambled into the room settling a cup of green tea in front of her, whilst simultaneously lifting Dami from her stomach. There was an uncomfortable silence amongst them as their daughter, oblivious to the obvious tension between her parents, entertained them nevertheless by dancing around the room and singing. He left the room in between to see to his mother in the kitchen. Feeling terrible for leaving her to tend to the mound of dishes, she carried behind walking straight into the enemy's territory.

“Are you stupid, boy? How could you even suggest a divorce?” She hissed. “It was only yesterday when you came running to me, with your eyes so full of love. Where is that love now?”

“People change.” He deadpanned, hot tears fulfilled her eyes, blurring her vision as she rushed back to the front room.

“We’re going, now!” She ordered, a pout on her daughter’s face grazed the surface of her heart. She couldn’t stand here, and hear her husband declare that he didn’t love her anymore. She couldn’t watch the love of her life slip from the tips of her fingers, whilst she sunk beneath the earth under her feet. She grabbed his car keys, from his jacket. “We’re going home, eomeonim. I need to go into the office, tomorrow. Thank you so much for taking care of Dami.” Kissing the top of her mother’s head, she slipped on her shoes before carrying Dami out of the home. Seonghwa followed hot on her heels.

“Where do you think you’re going at this time of night?”

“Home, Hwa.” The lock clicked out of the place, she jerked open the car door to fasten her daughter into the seat ignoring her cries and pleads to stay at her grandmother’s. “Dami! Quiet!” She roared, the same way Seonghwa would shout at her for nights on end for doing nothing other than being his wife.

“Stop acting like a child and come back inside right now!” He commanded.

“I won’t, Hwa. Because the next time I go back in and let myself be hurt by you, I’ll have no one to blame but me.” He fell quiet, swallowing the heavy lump in his throat. “I am the still the girl who would wait nights for her husband to come home to her. But you are no longer the boy that would walk straight into her arms.” Choking on her sobs, she jerked open the car door to slip inside, her daughter calling out for her father. After all, they were the same woman. Both so utterly in love with the same man that could not love them both in the ways one could dream of being in love. For being in love with him was asking for annihilation, his devotion unreachable like the stars studded in the midnight sky. Was he not made from the stars? An angel borne from light, whose banner was a celestial plane that would diminish the human essence in a heartbeat? Steering the car out of his driveway, Seonghwa stood plastered to the floor a single tear dropping from his eye as he felt his soul meander away from him.

That night, when they reached home, Dami was tight in her arms after having cried the whole journey home from missing her father. Eventually, exhaustion overpowered her and she reluctantly slept in her mother’s arms. She was so sure now that her daughter thought she was the villain for ripping her away from her father. Nuzzling her small face deeper into her mother’s neck, she felt her bottom lip tremble as she called out for her father.

There was no need to frantically run to the post box every time a letter slipped through, meeting the ground with a loud thud. Though, she did it anyway, with little Dami scuttling behind her as if she was expecting a letter herself though deep down Mrs Park knew that she wanted her Appa to come home. It had been a month having not heard back from him. No messages or calls. After work, she ventured over to his office only to be turned away by his assistant; catching a quick glance at his shadow through his window.

“I have to make an appointment to see my own husband?” She uttered through gritted teeth, though the woman in front merely nodded, disinterestedly. “When is Mr Park next available?” The jarring clatter against the keyboard gnawed at her ear drums, annoyance fulfilling her.

Fuck this. Rushing to the handle of his door, she keeled it open storming inside-the loud slam of the door jumping him up from where he sat in his seat. The assistant rushed behind, squawking about how she had to leave.

“Cilla, it’s ok. Go do your job.” He ordered, softly with his eyes fixated on his wife. She didn’t expect him to look this way, the clean, composed Seonghwa now with tousled hair and small dark circles under his eyes. Eyes bloodshot red as if he had been crying for weeks on end, exhaustion piling in them. His sunken face as if he had not eaten for weeks-Seonghwa, not eating? The same man who used to kiss her hands and go for seconds, claiming there must have been some magic in them for she made such delicious food?

“Dami is getting upset. She misses her Dad. The least you could is come home and see her, so she doesn’t think that her father abandoned her too.”

“I’ve been busy-,”

“You’ll always be busy, Hw-Seonghwa. But not busy enough that you can’t spare an hour or two to see your daughter.” She spat, storming straight out of his office, sending the assistant a dirty look on her way to the elevator.

“Appa!” Dami’s animated tone weighed down her father’s heart, his arms wide open as she jumped into them. Fixing her spot by the kitchen doorway she watched as her husband played with her daughter. After a few hours, when they had put Dami to sleep, they sat with each other in the front room Seonghwa pulling out an envelope from his work satchel.

“The-uh- papers. Divorce papers.” A pang struck through her, hands shaking as she reached out for them.

“As her mother, I’ll have custody over her. You should be allowed to see her every week, so maybe the weekend?” Her voice quivered, slightly as she opened up the seal of the envelope, its woody scent wafting up her nose. With little energy, to pull out the form- she settled it onto the coffee table. “We’ll move to my mother’s house…” She trailed off biting down on her lip as Seonghwa closed his eyes shut.

“That’s fine. You can just post it to the lawyer. I’d like to see Dami at my office next week, could you do that?” Nodding diligently, she owed him that much. He’d be counting down the days soon until he’d rarely see his daughter. How would they tell her Amma and Appa weren’t as happy as they were in the drawings?

Her eyes scoured over the woman sat in front of him, as she opened the door to his office. God, she was beautiful with her long, black, silky hair, siren eyes, her chic office look. Everything she was not, though she had managed to pick herself up and put a lot more effort than she usually did with her fitted suit, hair tied back into a sleek bun-held up by the closest pen she could find on her dressing table since her silver claw clip was nowhere in sight. Was she the woman he was going to leave her for? She couldn’t even blame him at this point, why keep something expired when you could throw it away and have something new? Gripping onto the straps of her handbag, she slowly let go of her daughter’s hand who ran to her father’s side.

“Gaeun, this is my wife Mrs Park.” Timidly, she shook her hand. Gaeun saw Mrs Park as an intimidating woman, with her silent face as she ambled into the room with her daughter, her neat hair, pointed heels and tailored skirt that accentuated her curves. She matched Mr Park’s daunting presence perfectly, and of course her intelligence was known to all as well as her insistence to remain at his rivals’ company. “Dear, this is Gaeun- she’s one of the project leads on the next Kim-Park collaboration.”

“I see.” Her head picked up, giving both parties a short nod before leaving the office. She reckoned there was enough to time to make it to her own company and break down in the toilets before beginning the work day.

The rain thundered down from the sky on a solemn afternoon, the clatter of dishes being returned to the cupboards entailing the home; followed the thundering knock at the door. Peeking into the peep hole, she swung the door open, she pulled her husband in immediately rushing around him as he jerked off his shoes.

“Into the shower now.” Without hesitation, he grabbed his clothes from her bedroom before soundlessly making his way into the shower. She only assumed he had come to their home for the signed papers, it had been a while since he’d given them to her; though all she could think about was the way her pen could not even touch the sheet. The door to the study creaked open, as she bit her lip with the unsigned line glaring back at her.

“I haven’t- I haven’t signed the paper, yet.” His breath hitched in his throat, inching closer and closer to her. With the tickle in her throat pervasive, the pen neared the line her heart shattering with every second that her hands rebuked the damned sheet in front. How did she even do her signature?

“I’m sorry that you fell in love with me. I’m sorry that you married me. I’m sorry that I’m not enough. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the perfect wife for you.” She blurted, the pen falling from her fingers onto the table. He called out her name, drawing forward arms outstretched to encircle her into him. To hold her as tight and as true as she deserved. To fulfil her of kisses that he had deprived her of, to ease her of her pain. Though she stopped him in his tracks, with a palm to censor his movements. “No, Hwa. I haven’t been enough for you for a very long time. I must have done something wrong for you to hurt me like this. I must have done something much worse than what you’ve done to me. I just wished you spoke to me than gave me this stupid sheet and trying to end us in a single heartbeat.” An agonising wail left her lips, as she dropped to the floor tucking up her knees to her chest. Her lungs burned, desperate for air running her fingers through her hair as she slowly breathed out to ease the throbbing sensation loitering at her temples. He sunk to the floor with her, engulfing her frame within his. His jumper so soft, drenched in the scent that she adored. The same scent that he wore when they first met. Her bottom lip quivered again.

“You did nothing, it was all me. I forgot who I was, I forgot it was you who gave me life.” Her tears stained his shirt, he held her closer to his body. “I came to here to change your mind. I didn’t want you to sign those papers. I was so scared you had.” Their bodies rocked back and forth as the painful sound of her sobbing gradually declined.

“I couldn’t do it.” She whispered, her throat sore from this prolonging nightmare. Kissing away her tears, his fingers gently tilted up her head so he could bore his eyes in her beautiful ones. “I just need to know if there’s another woman. If there is, and you love her the same way you loved me, you can have her.”

“There was never another woman. It was always you I swear.” He pledged, as his own tears rushed down his face tickling his jawline before pattering carefully on his sweater. “I was just a poor excuse of a man, a poor excuse of a husband. I admit that I felt like you’d never leave me, but when I realised you really could it hurt me so much.” Drawing lines over his sweatshirt she listened to the sweet sound of his voice whisper into her ears.

“I’ll be a better man. I’ll work on me, and you can just keep on being a great wife and mother.” Their lips met in a frenzy of emotions, their palpitating hearts enamouring their befallen entities as passionate kisses filled the wounds that penetrated through them. His hands snaked around her waist, as hers ran through his long hair emitting a husky groan out of him. “Do you think Dami would like a sibling?” He joked, before being met by whack to the back of his head, they deepened the kiss before she happily rested her head against his chest.

“Maybe, but not now. Right now, you need to come home to us.”

“It’s just you and me now. Nothing’s going to hurt you baby.”

All Right Reserved © the-midnight-blooms

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

cheong meaning 'quiet' 'eomeonim' means mother-in-law (husband's side) 'halmeoni' means grandma

A/N: i'm sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed, i'm going on some meds soon and i have no idea how shit i'm gonna feel while on them. wanted to update in case i have no energy to release something else for a while😖 Hope you guys liked this one! ✨✨

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

tags: @n0v4t33z @potatos-on-clouds @jjongwho

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Liz, Biotechnician

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sir, with all due respect, this is horseshit.”

Elizabeth Collins stood in front of the giant desk, usually manned by the entirety of the Admiralty, now barely a sixth taken up by one man, Admiral Townes, who just sighed. This was clearly not how he wanted to spend his afternoon. He could be golfing with the Riltayon ambassador, their species had the lower half of arachnids, but no, he got picked for this.

“You knew going in that the Herald was set to be decommissioned at the end of this year, you knew it would be a short posting when you asked for it,” he said, bracing himself. This was gonna be rough. Ensign Liz was infamous for being…vocal.

“Sir, that’s not the issue here and you know it. I worked my ass off to get that posting. I got to cut my teeth on a heavy cruiser for god’s sake,” Liz said, flushed. “My grades at the academy were flawless, and my record shows-”

“Your record?! Let’s talk about your record for a moment.” A few taps on the table and a holoscreen appeared. Through the transparency Liz could see her file photo as well as lines of shifting texts as updates and memos filed in. “Your first week aboard you locked a supervising officer in a containment field and sedated him with gas.”

“The guy had a zeno-sporic infection, so I only really gassed the mushrooms. Plus I cured him.”

“A month later you stole a shuttle and jumped to restricted space to collect samples of…” a few scrolls down, “…why does this just say glowing rocks?”

“Because the proper noun for them isn’t pronounceable by humans, we don’t have beaks, sir.”

“Why’d you need glowing rocks?” Townes asked.

“Because the rocks were radioactive, and one of the Zilgrats we had on board at the time needed an interesting blend of chemotherapy, it’s actually really cool when…”

“Enough, ensign.” Admiral Townes cut her off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Elizabeth…Liz. Clearly, you are your father’s kid. You are brilliant, and fearless.”

“Thank you, sir, I know dad would be happy to hear you say that.”

“I wasn’t finished. You’re also completely irresponsible, have zero regard for protocol or regulations, and think you’re always right. I’m reading that word for word from your file, your last captain made it the first thing you read in there.” Townes clicked off the hologram and sighed.

“Look, Liz, I’m not saying this as an admiral right now. I’m saying this as your uncle. Your dad, my brother, made me promise to watch out for you when he left the service, so that’s all I’m trying to do here.”

Liz took a beat before speaking.

“I understand that, sir.”

“Your new assignment has already been certified by the admiralty, and you ship out from Tranquility in two days on board the Noah.”

Liz, in the middle of rolling her eyes, actually did a double take. “The Noah? That test ship for interspecies cooperation?” That might actually change things, an opportunity to examine different species up close for extended periods of time was a goldmine of research for her.

“You need to know though, this is your last shot. Every rules, every regulation, to the letter, or I can’t help you anymore, regardless of what I promised your dad.”

Liz didn’t stop to think too hard about it.

“Deal.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the 50 years since the Human race had joined the GAIL, or the Grand Assembly of Intelligent Lifeforms, Earth had undergone several extreme and extraordinary changes. The first being the level of technology. In the early 21st century we got to experience communication and information technology progress by leaps and bounds, and that was managed just by ourselves. The addition of alien technology added rocket fuel to that particular bonfire. Our understanding of biological and technological sciences shot forward by centuries, as well as transportation, namely space flight. Our first interplanetary guests, the lizard like Quintins, shared their forcefield and artificial gravity specs to make interstellar travel safer for us as well.

They were, however, initially horrified at our ‘rudimentary’ first designs. There were a lot of questions like ‘you use explosives as initial propellant?’ and ‘you shot into space at faster than light speeds without any shield array?’ In retrospect, the human race should not have gotten as far as it did. But there we were, members of a collective 200 species strong, setting out into the stars to explore the universe.

Ensign Liz Collins was thinking about such things as she walked the gangway aboard the Noah, a midsized exploratory ship, the first in a new line of experimental expedition vessel. The experiment was two fold. The first, and more practical, was to test a new propulsion system the science and engineering division of the GAIL had submitted. In theory it was capable of long sustainable WARP time with a significantly higher energy efficiency compared to older models, as well as a new power core make up to keep the ship running longer between docking. Supposedly the Noah would be capable of going at least a year without a recharge.

The second, more dubious aspect of the experiment was to see how many different species handled being in close proximity to one another. The Noah’s full crew compliment numbered exactly 100, and of the 200 races in the GAIL, 25 volunteered to put 4 members each of their species on board. Meaning Liz would only see 3 other humans for potentially the next year of her life.

How exciting, she thought. Finally a chance to study what the Galaxy has to offer up close and personal.

The cast off ceremony was boring. The captain, she believed he was a member of the Mergal species, was the only reason she didn’t try to sneak out. It appeared he had a cybernetic limb above the second insect set on his abdomen, which was interesting. Definitely more interesting than the other three humans she saw in the crew line up.

Afterwards she finally made it to the science division and booked it to biotech. The lab was state of the art, next gen super computers, stasis field generators, even a gene splicer!

“Oh hell yes,” Liz said, taking it all in. “Yeah, I can make this work.”

The only thing that stood out to her, however, was the potted plant in the corner. It was about 5 foot tall, standing in a square aluminum ‘pot’, the only thing in the room that wasn’t made of metal or ceramic. Upon closer inspection, it was more like a small tree or sapling, where its vines had wrapped around one another to grow up instead of hang down, with a lush leafy canopy.

“Why is there a tree in my lab?” Liz said, mostly to herself, but apparently the tree had an answer for her.

“Because this is my lab as well.”

Liz was so startled she thought the translator would fall out of her ear.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know there were any Sprygans on the crew!” Liz dropped her stuff onto the counter and approached the tree, who she now recognized as her crewmate. “I’m, uhh, Ensign Elizabeth Collins. You can call me Liz, if you like.” She held out her hand, unsure of even how they’d shake. As she stood there, the tree pulled itself out of the pot and onto the floor, dragging soil and dirt with it as its roots retracted into its body. Outside the pot the Sprygan only stood about 3 1/2 feet tall.

“Why is your…hand(?) out?” It asked. Liz’s translator registered two questions asked, and she realized the Sprygan wasn’t sure what a hand was.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, dropping her arm, “it’s how my people greet each other. Sorry.”

Great. First new species she’s gotten to meet and she’s acting the fool. Chocking it up to nerves, she tried to get back on track.

“What should I call you?” She asked. “Any pronouns I should be aware of?”

Liz watched as a vine extended from their body and reached out to grab a photo bar and switch it on. The bar lit up with synthetic star light and Liz realized the Sprygan was eating.

“You can call me whatever is convenient for you. On Spryga only the colonies have names, and I am not there right now.”

Liz was simultaneously baffled, intrigued, and mortified. She knew this, she knew all of this, this was practically social studies 101. She had to get her footing here. Townes voice in her head was disappointedly saying ‘Last chance’ over and over again. Change of topic then.

“Why’d your people volunteer for this mission then? I thought Sprygans didn’t leave their home world for anything.”

The Sprygan looked at her a moment, or at least she thought it did. Hard to tell when it didn’t have eyes.

“We came to see how predator species behave, so as better to surpass(?) them on our home world.”

The word ‘surpass’ flagged an error in her translator. Liz tapped the earpiece she was wearing and went to the alternative translation.

[Survive]

Oh. Oh god damnit. Liz you idiot. The Sprygans were a plant based race, they weren’t hunter or gatherers, they were basically the vegetables to other species on their home planet, of course they had predators they’d have problems with.

“Yeah, uhh, that makes sense.”

Before she could make any other off handed mistakes, Liz was quite literally saved by the bell.

“Attention all hands, this is your captain speaking. The start of our year long mission begins now. You all know the purpose of this ship is to test not only our mettle, but our spirits as well. Every species, every crewmate aboard this ship is going to be tested in ways they never have before, to the utmost limits. Help each other. Stand with each other. Because together, we’re going as far as our connections can take us. Everyone, to your stations. We’re going to WARP.”

The announcement clicked off. The Sprygan climbed back into their pot. Liz sat down at her station and sighed.

It was gonna be a long year.

[stollengoods]

Chapter 5

It’s Not Me, It’s You

Myung-gi x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of: killing, abortion, and drugs.

Summary: Myung-gi manages to piss you off again but this time instead of you going to Nam-gyu, Nam-gyu comes to you. (A bit of Nam-gyu fluff)

————

When you guys got back to your beds, everyone was whispering amongst each other. No doubt, scared out of their minds at what had just occurred.

“I saw Thanos flirting with her before the game, how is he so-“

Myung-gi shook his head, cutting you off, “I don’t know. I saw him push four people not longer afterwards either.”

“Wait. Really ? Like on purpose ?” Your eyes filled with fear all over again as you looked over at Thanos jamming out on his bed.

Myung-gi raised his eyebrows, “Yes. He literally pushed all of them, one after the other they went down like dominos.”

“What the fuck, why ?”

“Bro has to be on something.” Myung-gi mumbled bringing his legs into his chest.

You laughed, “They won’t even give me Midol, I doubt they’ll hand someone narcotics.”

He released a heavy sigh, “It’s scarier to think of the alternative…”

You titled your head, “Which is ?”

He looked at you, his face serious, “That’s just who he is.”

“He could have a mental illness.” You suggested, “But that doesn’t make him evil.”

“It does make him very unpredictable though and in a situation like this you don’t want to be around someone unpredictable.” He released his legs and they hung over the bed like yours. “That brings me to another point, I don’t want you hanging out with Nam-gyu anymore.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips, you honestly haven’t thought of Nam-gyu until he brought him up but you’ll be damned if Myung-gi’s going to tell you what to do.

“Okay, dad.” You replied sarcastically. “What gives you the fucking audacity to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with in here ?” There it goes, your anger rising up again.

He closed his eyes as you raised your voice, “I don’t mean to come off as controlling, I’m just saying it’s probably a good idea to stay away from the people Thanos hangs out with.”

“You can’t just assume someone’s bad from the people they hang around, Nam-gyu hasn’t killed anyone ! He deserves the benefit of the doubt for that.”

His eyes squinted at you, “Oh yeah, he’s such a nice guy because he hasn’t killed anyone yet.” He threw his hands up, “That’s the fucking bare minimum y/n !”

You rolled your eyes, “You know what I mean ! Him and Thanos are not the same. Tell me what he’s done that is bad enough that I can’t be around him ?”

He looked defeated, “Y/n, he’s just no good for you.”

You busted out laughing, “You’re real fucking funny, you know that.” You remarked, as you got up from the bed and grabbed your jacket. “Because you’re one to talk.”

You stormed off to your own bed and Myung-gi knew better than to follow you. He just watched you with his sad puppy dog eyes as you walked away from him. You sat on your bed starring daggers at your feet trying to calm yourself down.

“Your boyfriend giving you shit again ?”

You turned around to see Nam-gyu leaning his arms against the bed above you as he peered down at you.

You scoffed, “He’s not my boyfriend.” You told him as you scooted your legs on the bed, propping the upper part of your body against the wall behind you.

“Aww did I cause a break up ?” He jutted out his lower lip and you playfully rolled your eyes at him. He joined you on the opposite side of the bed, his back propped up against the foot board.

“We’ve been separated for months now. More specifically six months.”

Nam-gyu blinked his eyes a couple times, “Damn. I would think you guys are married, who uses the word ‘separated’ to describe a break up.” He chuckled.

You looked off to the side, “Not married but uh- we were expecting…”

“Expecting ? Oh-“

“Yeah.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “When I told him, he sent me money to get an abortion and then completely ignored my texts and calls after that.”

You saw Nam-gyu pull his jacket sleeves over his hands, “Wow- that’s fucked up.”

You sighed, “Yeah.”

Quickly thinking of something to break the tension you created, you brought up Thanos to him.

“What’s up with your friend ?” You questioned, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

Nam-gyu looked back at Thanos making shooting jesters with his hands as he rapped to himself, “Who ? Thanos ?”

You cleared your throat, “Yeah, he seems… very- happy ?”

Nam-gyu nodded his head, “Yeah, the cross necklace he wears, the pendants opens and he keeps his “happy” pills in there.”

You looked at Nam-gyu, “They’re giving him pills ?”

Nam-gyu chuckled, “No, he brought them with him, they just didn’t take them away from him.”

You blinked a couple of times and Nam-gyu uncovered his hands from his sleeves, “Like these two rings I have on, I came with these, they didn’t give them to me, they just let me keep them.”

“Ohh… so Thanos is a drug addict I’m assuming ?”

Nam-gyu pursed his lips, “Yeah… basically.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why do you hang out with a guy like that ?”

“The same reason we hang out together- we have a common enemy.” He smiled.

You giggled, “I don’t hate Myung-gi…”

He put his hands up in defense, “You don’t have to hate someone for them to be an enemy.”

“Yeah, fair point.”

The speakers crackled on, “We will take another vote. I need everyone to listen for their number to be called. May I remind you that when you vote ‘O’ you are voting to stay, if you vote ‘X’ you are voting to leave.”

“Well.” Nam-gyu grunted as he got up from the bed, “I guess I’ll see you on the other side.”

You smiled, reaching out your hand for a fist bump. He smirked, before bumping your fist with his and walking off to meet up with Thanos.

You got off your bed, fixing to join everyone gathering in the middle of the room, when you heard someone behind you.

“Yah !”

You turned around to a woman with short black hair and a nose piercing approach you. “Hi… do I know you ?”

“No. I just had a question for you.”

You guys began walking down the stairs together, “Okay…”

“How do you know Nam-gyu ?”

You starred at her for a moment, “Umm… I don’t know, we just sorta started talking I guess, why do you ask ?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “You guys just seemed very chummy like you knew each other outside of this place.”

You guys stopped walking once you made it to the center of the room. You tilted your head to the side, “Is there something I’m missing ? Is he your ex or something ?”

She snorted, “Oh god no. Also, honey, I’m gay if you couldn’t tell.” She pointed to her nose piercing as if to prove her point.

“Oh okay, then why the interrogation about Nam-gyu ?”

“Well, I’m usually very good at picking up on what kind of people most humans are. Nam-gyu was a fairly easy read, he bullies people like Min-su to feel a sense of power because with everything else in his life he feels powerless. Therefore he’s just an insecure asshole.” She shrugs her shoulders before putting her hands together and pointing them at you.

“You on the other hand, I’ve noticed have some tension with Player 333 which I didn’t think too much into considering he’s scammed thousands of people out of money, but I saw you interacting with player 196 earlier before she was killed and you seemed like a fairly nice person. So I’m just wandering what a good hearted person like you is doing being buddy buddy with an asshole like Nam-gyu ?”

Your jaw was practically on the floor, “No offense but you sound like a full blown stalker.”

“None taken, I can see your trying to deflect which is fine, I got my answer.” She smiled before walking off into the crowd of people in front of you guys.

“Who was that ?” Myung-gi asked, joining the spot next to you.

“I have no idea.” You monotoned, then focused your attention on him.

He looked over to meet your gaze, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have told you who you couldn’t be friends with.” He pursed his lips together, “He’s an asshole to me but if he’s nice to you then that’s all that matters.”

You gave him a smile, “Thank you.” It’s the least he could do to make things right but everyone’s got to start somewhere.

[futfemfantasies]

“You are very welcome to do so” \\ vivianne miedema x reader

Prompt #26

“I could kiss you right now” “You’re very welcome to do so”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You board the team bus with your headphones on, not wanting to break your focus. Only for that focus to be broken when your favourite Dutch player sits next to you with that toothless smile you’ve grown to love on her face. Viv grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers together, helping calm your nerves you thought you are hiding well. You exhale and sit back into the seat, somewhat relaxing. You go on your phone for a moment when you receive a text in your group chat with your national teammates and best friends Steph and Caitlin.

Calvin’s mum 🐶: I see you over there getting cozy with Vivvy 👀

You: idk what ur talking about…

Foord mustang 🚗: don’t act like there’s nothing going on between you too 😳

You: she’s helping to calm my nerves, that’s all

Calvin’s mum 🐶: what ever floats your boat y/n/n…

You turn around to the two Aussies sitting together and they make kissy faces at you and you roll your eyes. Viv asks you if everything is okay and you tell her that Steph and Caitlin are just being annoying. About 40 minutes later, the bus pulls up to the airport and you all get ready to jet of to France for the last semi final. You sit down in your designated sit on the plane and start getting your book and earphones out when you feel someone sit next to you. You look up and see that it’s once again Viv.

“You just can’t seem get away from me, can you?”

“Maybe I want to be here”

That made you blush slight as Viv got out her things before putting her bag in the overhead compartment. Doing so, it causes her shirt to rise up slightly and you catch a glimpse of the strikers abs. Your cheeks redden as you bury your head in your book as Viv sits down and buckles in.

“Like what you see?” She whispers in your ear and you don’t say anything, just smile slightly.

You feel the plane start to go and you grip the arm rests so tightly, your knuckles begin to turn white. Your eyes close as you feel the plane getting faster and as you start to ascend, you feel a hand intertwine with yours. Viv gives your hand a squeeze and looks at you with that smile you’ve grown to love. You thought Viv would let go of your hand but she didn’t and you are perfectly okay with that. As the plane started to descend, Viv squeezed you’re hand again to help calm your nerves.

The team starts to leave the plane and make their way to the baggage claim area where Viv doesn’t leave your side. As you all wait for the bags, Viv decides to make a bold move and rests her head on your shoulders while her arms are loosely around your waist. You just know your group chat with Steph and Caitlin are going to be bombarded with messages. You see your bag come and Viv lets you go and gets your bag for you. She ends up getting hers as well and wheels them back over to you. You thank her and wait for the rest of the team to get their bags. You sit on your suitcase and pull out your phone to see, as expected, a bunch of messages from Steph and Caitlin.

Foord mustang 🚗: i call bullshit that there’s nothing going on with you two…

Calvin’s mum 🐶: i second that 🙋‍♀️

You: no further comments at this time 🤫

You feel a presence in front of you and see the Dutch beauty. You look up to see her hold your hand out for you. You take it and stand up before getting your bag. You all arrive at the hotel and Jonas tells everyone who their roommate is. To no one’s surprise, you and Viv are roomed together. As you both got into the room, you see one big bed in the middle of the room and you immediately panic.

“We can share right? It’s only for two nights, I’m sure we can manage” Viv says and you nod.

You lie down on one side of the bed and close your eyes at the coldness of the pillow. You feel the bed move and you peak open one eye to see Viv lying next to you, looking at you.

“What are you looking at creeper?”

“Just you” Viv tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear before flicking your eyes and lips. You begin to lean in and just as your lips are millimetres from each other when you both hear multiple bangs on your door.

“Oi lovebirds, we’re going out for a team dinner. Hurry up” You hear the lovely voice of Katie McCabe beam through the door. You yell back that you’re coming and Viv mumbles something you can’t quite hear.

After a spending the hour at dinner giving each other subtle glances and playing footises under the table, you two go back to the room not saying a word and get ready for the next day.

You wake up the next morning with a tight arm around your waist. You slowly unravel yourself and go have a shower before breakfast. Viv wakes up as she hears the bathroom door close and she pouts slightly. She quickly gets herself changed and goes to the balcony, checking her messages. Just as she’s about to reply to Leah, Viv feel hands sneak around her waist.

“Hey stranger, what are you doing out here? It’s chilly”

“Just thinking” Viv replies with a half smile on her face.

“Alright, we’re ditching the girls and going out for breakfast together this morning and you can talk to me about whatever’s going on in that pretty little head of yours okay?” Viv nods and you leave a lasting kiss on her forehead, making Viv swoon on the inside.

After a flirtatious breakfast, you two quickly head back to the hotel to get ready for the game. As usual, you two sit on the bus together and you hold Viv’s hand close to you. She turns to you a gives you a look and you shake your head before leaning it on her shoulder. Viv ends up pulling you close into her and leaves a long kiss on your forehead. Steph and Caitlin see this and decide not to tease you because it looks like something is wrong.

You get to the stadium and Viv stays by your side the entire time. You slip your earphones in and let the world of music take you away. As the team goes to look at the field, you stay behind and when Viv gets no response to the question she asked you, thinking you are next to her, she looked around her and noticed you weren’t there. She asked a few of the girls if they’ve seen you and Katie tells Viv that you stayed back in the locker room. Viv instantly runs back to the room and all the girls gossip about how hopeless you too are.

Viv runs into the locker room, catching herself as she slides around the corner and sees you sitting in your cubby with your knees up to your chest. Viv sits beside you and pulls you on her lap.

“What’s going on? You haven’t been yourself since breakfast”

“I’m just scared. What if I mess it up for everyone? Everyone will hate me” You just broke down in tears and at the same time Viv’s heart was breaking a little bit more. She heard footsteps come around the corner and she quickly shooed them all away so you two could still have alone time.

“You won’t mess it up and you know why? Because you’re you Y/N. No one will hate you if we lose, it’s a team sport. We’re all in this together”

“Thanks Vivvy. How are you not freaking out right now?”

“Because I know I’ve got you up front with me” You sit up slightly and wipe your tears.

“You are going to do so well Y/N/N, I just know it” Viv leaves a long kiss on your forehead and you move off of her lap. You start to do your pre-game traditions when the rest of the girls came in. Thankfully, none of them asked why your face is red but Caitlin and Steph did give you a look and you just nod your head.

Fast forward to the game and you are currently tied at one all and there’s 3 minutes left in extra time. You move around the Lyon back line as you try to find a an open spot and when you do, Lia passes you the ball. You weave through the defenders and sprint with the ball towards goal and when you’re close enough, shoot it to the top bin. You hear the swoosh of the net and the crowd going wild, that’s when you knew it went in. You run to your teammates who dog pile you before getting up quickly. Viv was the last person to congratulate you and she gives you a kiss on your temple. You and the rest of the Arsenal girls manage to hold off Lyon for the extra minutes and you heard the refs whistle, meaning you are through to the Champions League final. You sink on your knees and cry in your hands. You feel two hands hold your wrists and slowly peel your hands off of your face. You look and see Viv with a big smile on her face. She holds your cheeks in her hands and continues to smile wide.

“I could kiss you right now” Viv whispers.

“You are very welcome to do so”

Viv leans forward and gently puts her lips on yours. Fans all around the stadium cheering causes you two to seperate. What you don’t notice is Caitlin and Steph watching on in pride, thankful that you’ve found your person.

After the teams get back to the locker room and shower, you all go back to the bus and to no ones surprise, you and Viv sit together up the back. You lean on Viv and she pulls you into her as your eyes attempt to stay awake. Viv whispers to you to go to sleep as the bus ride will take a little while.

The next time your eyes open is when you feel someone pick you up. Viv whispers that we’re back at the hotel and we’re going up to the room. You nod and fall back to sleep until you feel something comfy underneath you. You groan before opening your eyes and notice Viv not in bed with you. You start making grabby hands and Viv caves and crawls into bed. She wraps her arms around you and your whole body relaxes.

[loverslantern]

The Hunter and the Witch ~ Dean Winchester x fem! reader

Description: Dean asks Y/N to help him find his Dad who mysteriously went missing. The two along with Deans brother, Sam, go to investigate John's last hunt, which he’d gone missing from.

Warnings: cannon violence, mentions of su!cide, arguing,witch craft, arguing, curse words, everything written is fiction and should not be taken seriously

word count: 6,103

The Woman In White

(Masterlist/ Next chapter)

Present day…

A knock at the door halts my movements, I wasn’t expecting anyone.

I place the book I was reading on my coffee table, jumping up to see who's at my front door. Suspicion and anticipation floods my veins as I peek through the peephole seeing a familiar deep brown leather jacket, not needing any more confirmation I open the door swiftly.

“Y/N.” Dean spoke, a mix of relief and worry laced within his voice.

“Dean” I respond with a smile. I practically jump on him, my arms around his neck, the last time I saw him was a month ago when he came up to Maine to hang out with me. We were sitting on the hood of the Impala just taking in the view when he said he needed to tell me something, he had this look in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place, and just as he was about to say it his phone rang and he had to leave. Since then I haven’t heard anything from him, no calls or texts.

I let those thoughts pass through me as his initial shock wears off, wrapping his arms around my waist squeezing tightly.

I end our hug, remembering the worry in his voice as he said my name, motioning for him to come in leading him to my living room. “You cut your hair” He acknowledges, sitting down.

“Felt like it needed a change,” I say, shrugging. I had so much I wanted to ask him, but even before that I wanted to hug him again. I didn’t move to do either, not wanting to scare him off. “You sound worried, Dean, is everything okay?” I can’t help but ask, my eyebrows scrunching with worry.

“I'm okay sweetheart, but I do need your help. Dad's been missing for a couple of days.” He explains the worry in his voice returning.

“You really think he’s in danger? I mean this has happened before and he always comes back fine” I rationalize.

“Not for this long.” he answered simply.

“Okay” I breathed out already knowing my answer the moment he said he needed my help, “Okay, just give me a couple of minutes to pack.” I repeat as I stand up, that charming smile landed on his face as he stood up with me. I took this as my opportunity to wrap my arms around him, this time around his torso, giving him another hug. If missing someone was illegal then lock me up. His arms wrapped around my waist and I felt the tension I hadn't realized was there, washing off my body.

I broke away first, immediately regretting it, pointing upstairs as a sign for me to start packing.

After traveling many days from Maine to LA we had finally made it to Sam’s place, who Dean naturally also wanted on board to find their dad. Dean had parked the Impala in a parking lot close by, the darkness of the night cloaking us as Dean found a way in.

I whisper, warning Dean, “He’s already gonna be grumpy about you showing up here let alone breaking in!!”

But he dismisses me with a wave of his hand as he carefully opens up a window, sneaking in before turning back around and offering me a hand. I give him a look that says ‘really we’re doing this' as I accept his offer and enter the house.

I follow after Dean as he enters a hallway, when suddenly a tall man lunges forward and grabs Dean's shoulder. I figure it’s most likely Sammy and decide that I can stay back as the brothers have their quarrel. Dean knocks Sam's arm away and aims a strike at him, missing as Sam ducks. Their fight continues until Dean finally knocks Sam down and pins him to the floor. “Easy tiger” Dean huffs.

“Dean?” Sam asks, getting a laugh in response. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“That's ‘cause you're out of practice” Dean responds before Sam manages to knock Dean to the floor.

“Or not” Dean mumbles, face full of floor.

They finally get off of each other, as Sam asks “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, I was looking for a beer” Dean replies, getting a response from me this time

“Dude, really?”

“Y/N? You're here too?!”

“Hi, Sam!” I respond, smiling brightly. Dean pats Sam on the shoulder, in the weird way guys do to greet another guy, “We gotta talk” Dean explains.

“Uh, the phone?” Sam reasons

“If I'd called, would you have picked up?” Dean counters, getting a low stretched-out “yikes” from me as I add in very helpful commentary, earning two hard glares from both boys.

Then the light suddenly turns on revealing a curly-haired blonde woman wearing short shorts and a cropped Smurfs shirt, very fashionable. I already like her even though I don’t know who she is.

“Sam?” the woman asks, tiredness lacing her voice.

“Jess. Hey. Dean. Y/N, this is my girlfriend, Jessica.” Sam introduces

I smile wildly, waving at her as the dots connect. I had heard lots about Jess but hadn't gotten the chance to see a photo of her or meet her in person. Then, I notice the way Dean checks her out, his lips parted a little as he gapes at her. I roll my eyes, elbowing his side.

“Wait, your brother Dean? And your friend Y/N?” Jessica asks as Dean turns his head to me annoyed. Sam nods and Dean moves closer to her ignoring my warning via elbowing.

“Oh, I love the Smurfs," he remarks, gesturing towards her cropped shirt, the neckline cut a little too. "You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league," he grins.

“Really, Dean” I deadpan, getting an appreciative half smile from Sam while Dean ignores me.

“Just let me put something on” Jessica says, turning to go before being stopped by another sly comment from Dean “No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously.”

I move forward hitting Dean on the back of the head. He turns around to me “Really?”

“Yes, really!" I say as if it's obvious because it should be.

Dean turns back to Jessica, “Uh anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you.”

“No,” Sam replies, going over to Jessica and putting an arm around her. Cute couple. “Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her” he goes on.

Dean turns to look at them both head-on, “Okay, Dad hasn't been home in a few days.”

“So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back sooner or later” Sam reasons.

Dean huffs, clarifying, “Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days.”

Sam's expression doesn't change as Jessica glances up at him.

“Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside.”

Dean heads downstairs, Sam follows after him once he changed into jeans and a hoodie. Knowing they would be having an argument I walked behind Sam making sure I was going slow. “I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you."

I hold back my ‘I told you so’ comment.

“You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him” Dean counters.

“You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine” Sam reasons, pointing out the same thing I did only a couple days ago.

Dean stops and turns around, Sam stopping too. “Not for this long. Now are you gonna come with me or not?” Dean asks

“I'm not” Sam replies simply prompting a “Why not?” from Dean.

“I swore I was done hunting. For good” Sam clarifies

“Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad.” Dean try’s reason.

Even though he said it I know we were all thinking it is that bad, it’s always a dangerous game. Dean starts walking again, Sam and, subsequently, me following. “Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45” Sam recalls

Dean stops at the door to the outside, “Well, what was he supposed to do?”

“I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark.”

“I’m sorry Dean but Sam’s right about that” I chime in.

“Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there” Dean explains, looking at the both of us like we’re crazy.

“Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her. Yet we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find” Sam rationalizes.

“We save a lot of people doing it, too.”

There was a pause where no one said anything before Sam asked, “You think Mom would have wanted this for us?”

I tense knowing that was a sensitive topic, as Dean throws open the door clearly pissed at the mere mention.

“The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors” Sam, sadly, points out as we cross and enter the parking lot to the Impala.

“So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?” Dean argues.

“No. Not normal. Safe” Sam clarifies before adding,

“And that's why you ran away.”

“I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing.”

“Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it.”

“A-And what about you Y/N? Last time we talked you were saying how you were really happy with your job. Did you just throw that all away to help Dean? No offense Y/N but you really don’t owe him, let alone our Dad, anything.”

I breathe in sharply not expecting him to throw me into this conversation. He was right though, I really did love my job, I was a journalist for a crime website/paper. It paid well and was a way for me to indulge in my knowledge on crime investigation.

But even so I countered, “I do love my job and just because I agreed to come with doesn't mean I stopped doing it, I was able to make a deal to do it on the road and I’ll do it as long as I’m able to. And trust me I know I don’t owe anyone anything, but you guys are my best friends so you say you need help and I will gladly come, no questions asked.”

Sam looks down, sighing, “You’re too nice for your own good.”

Dean pipes up, “I can't do this without you, Sammy.”

“Yes you can.”

“Yeah, well, I don't want to” Dean clarifies with a sadness in his voice that if you hadn’t known him well you probably wouldn’t have heard.

Sam sighs, “What was he hunting?”

Dean opens the trunk of the car, then the spare-tire compartment that he uses as an arsenal. He props the compartment open with a shotgun so that he can dig through the clutter.

“So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?”

“Well, first I was hangin with Y/N here for a while before I started working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans” Dean answers.

Even though it was hardly a sentiment, the mention of us hanging out those weeks brought a smile to my face.

“Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?” Sam questioned.

“I'm twenty-six, dude” Dean spoke as he pulled out papers from a folder, the ones he showed me at the first motel we slept at on our long journey to LA.

“All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy.”

Dean hands one of the paper articles to Sam, adding on “They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA.”

“So maybe he was kidnapped” Sam reasons.

I answer this time, reciting what I remembered reading as Dean handed Sammy more articles, “Well there was another in April, then in December of oh-four, oh-three, ninety-eight, ninety-two and some more for a grand total of ten over the last twenty years.”

Dean puts the papers away pulling out a bag and then a tape recorder as he continues the info dump,

“All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road. It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough. Then I got this voicemail yesterday on our drive to you.”

He presses play, the familiar voice of John, their dad, and static playing, having heard it multiple times, “Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.”

He stops the recording.

“You know there's EVP on that, right?” Sam mentions.

Dean smiles, “Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?

All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got.”

He presses play again, “I can never go home…”

“Never go home” Sam repeats as Dean puts everything back where it belongs to shut the trunk.

“Fun, right?” I comment sarcastically.

Sam sighs, “All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him. But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here.”

Sam turns to go back to the apartment but turns back when Dean says, “What's first thing Monday?”

“I have this...I have an interview.”

“What, a job interview? Skip it.”

“It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate.”

Dean smirks, “Law school?”

“So we got a deal or not?”

Dean says nothing so I do, “Yes, we do” I confirm.

We arrive at the highway where all the men have gone missing just as Sam hangs up the phone, “All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. So that's something, I guess.”

“That’s good!” I add.

Dean then slows the car as we near on a bridge, police cars and men all around, he pulls over fully leaning over to open the glove box, exposing the many fake ids he and his dad had, one’s like FBI and such.

Sam glares at while I say, “Love a good ol’ fraud”

We exit the car heading towards the deputy.

Dean starts, “You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?”

The deputy looks up at us asking, “And who are you?”

Dean flashes his badge, clarifying, “Federal marshals.”

“You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you?” The man asks.

But Dean just laughs, “Thanks, that's awfully kind of you.”

Truthfully he has absolutely no reason to be that smooth.

Dean goes over to the car, the one that belongs to the guy who went missing aka Troy, “You did have another one just like this, correct?”

Jaffe, the deputy who’s name tag I was finally able to read,responds “Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that.”

“So, this victim, you knew him?” Sam chimes in, asking

“Town like this, everybody knows everybody.”

Then I ask, “Besides them being all men have you found any other correlation?”

“No. Not so far as we can tell.” He responds truthfully.

“So what's the theory?” Sam asks

“Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?”

So nothing. Great.

Just before I could ask another question Dean comments, “Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys.”

Sam stomps on Dean's foot, clearing up his comment by saying “Thank you for your time. Gentlemen”

We walk away, with nothing, no helpful information, no nothing.

We make it into town, luckily finding who we assume to be the girlfriend of Troy.

Somehow Dean managed to convince the girl, Amy, that we were Troy's Uncles and Aunt who were also looking for our missing nephew.

Even more surprising we were able to get her to come to a Diner with us to talk, her friend Rachel joining us.

Rachel and Amy sat across from us in a booth, me being squished in by the wall as Dean sat next to me with an arm on the back of my seat and Sam sitting next to him.

Amy begins to explains the last time she saw Troy, “I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did.”

Sam asks, “He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?”

Amy shakes her head, “No. Nothing I can remember.”

“I like your necklace, it’s really nice” I say, noticing the pentagram she was wearing.

“Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—with all that devil stuff.” Amy says, laughs at the memory.

“I don’t know if you believe in that kind of thing but pentagrams are actually a good tool, it protects you against evil. Your boyfriend has good taste, even if his intentions were different” I smile, careful to not use past tense to not give her the wrong impression.

Dean takes his arm off the back of my seat to lean in “Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything…” going the complete opposite direction I was aiming for aka nice and sympathetic.

But it seems to work as the girls look at each other debating whether whatever they had was worth sharing.

Rachel speaks this time, “Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk.”

Dean and Sam ask at the same time, “What do they talk about?”

Neither boy called jinx, missed opportunity.

“It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered on Centennial, like decades ago.Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”

After heading to the library we found out about our murderous spirit, a twenty-four year old Constance Welch who committed suicide in 1981 after her two kids died in the bathtub when she walked away for a moment.

She commited on the very bridge that Troy, and many others went missing.

So that very night, we walked along the bridge, stopping to lean on the railing. “So this is where Constance took the swan dive.” Dean said, looking over the railing.

“What a respectful way to put it, Dean” I say to him sarcastically.

“So you think Dad would have been here?” Sam asks Dean.

“Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him.” Dean spoke, I knew this would turn into another argument between them so I walked in front of them to give them room.

Their conversation became murmurs as I kept ahead, minutes going by before I turned around to wait for them to catch up.

“Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—“ Sam said frustrated before being cut off by Dean

“Monday. Right. The interview.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?” Dean asked.

“Maybe. Why not?” Sam answered back

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?” Dean argues.

“No, and she's not ever going to know.” Sam responds.

“Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean turns around and keeps walking, Sam following, caught up to me at this point.

“And who's that?” Sam questions.

“You're one of us.” Dean motions to me and him.

Sam hurries to get in front of us, “No. I’m not like you. This is not going to be my life…no offense Y/N”

“It’s okay Sam no offense taken, this job isn’t so dreamy” I respond.

“You're on his side?!” Dean yells, turning towards me.

“I-I mean do you blame me? It’s his life! And if he wants to settle down and try to forget the things that go bump in the night then that’s his decision to make. Don’t you wish things could be different?” I argue back, dying down with my question.

“He has a responsibility to—“ Dean gets cut off by Sam now, “To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.”

My heart aches for him, I understand what it’s like to lose a mother but at least I had time with her.

Then Dean grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge. “Don't talk about her like that.”

“Dean!” I shout out.

He releases Sam with a huff and walks away.

“Are you okay, Sam?” I ask

He nods but by the look on his face I can tell he’s frustrated.

“Y/N.Sam.” Dean alerted us, we moved to stand next to him seeing a pretty pale women in white with dark brown hair, Constance. She was on the edge of the bridge, and with one final look back at us she stepped off.

We run to the railing but see nothing.

“Where’d she go?” Dean asks no one in particular. “I don’t know” Sam responds while I add on “Freaky.”

The sudden roaring of an engine forces our attention behind us once more revealing it to be the Impala with its headlights also on. I whip my head towards Dean, double checking that he isn’t the one in the car.

“What the—“Dean starts

“Who's driving your car?”

Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. Sam glances down at them. The car suddenly jerks into motion, heading straight for us.

With no other speaking necessary, we turn and run.

“Go! Go!” I yell, panic running through me. But the car was moving faster than we were and it was all too close far too quickly.

Dean grabs hold of my wrist forcing us both on and over the railing of the bridge into the ice cold river, knowing I would never do such a thing willingly (even with the circumstances). Sam jumped over, right after us.

The river was, truthfully, more mud than water or at least that’s how it felt. I choke as I breach the surface, Dean’s firm grip on my wrist remaining making it easier to locate him as he pulls us both out and onto the riverbend.

“Dean? Y/N” Sam calls out, his voice coming from above meaning he hadn’t fallen into the river and wasn’t suffering like us, lucky bastard.

It’s only when we’re both standing, out of the river, do I realize just how bad we are. Mud cakes to every inch of my skin, forcing the clothes I was wearing to stick to me, and I knew that my hair would be a catastrophe to deal with.

I want to start crying, seriously.

“What?” Dean calls back

“Hey! Are you all right?” Sam asks the both of us. I watch Dean through an ‘ok’ hand sign along with an “I’m super” just as I hang my head down.

Sam laughs and I suddenly feel very compelled to go up there and throw him in the river so that he could suffer too.

Dean still kept a hand on my wrist all the way up until we were back to the Impala, immediately he went to check if Baby was okay.

He shuts the hood of the car and leans on it.

“Your car all right?” Sam asks him.

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!” Dean complains.

“Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the job go from here, genius?” Sam asked as he settled on the hood next to Dean while I prompted to stand knowing that if I sat I'd just feel the mud even more.

Dean throws up his arms in frustration, flicking mud off his hands.

Sam sniffs, then looks at Dean and I. “You guys smell like a toilet.”

“Alright I can't take this” I complained, moving to stand right in front of Dean. I slap a hand near his shoulder and begin a cleansing spell. The latin slips off my tongue as I catch my reflection on the car seeing my irises glowing purple, like they always do when I use my powers.

The mud, the icky-ness, and the smell vanish from the both of us as I finish the short spell. It’s definitely a weird feeling but far better than the feeling of mud being everywhere.

A sigh of relief comes from Dean as he covers my hand on his shoulder with his own, giving it a squeeze. “Thanks sweetheart”

“You’re welcome! Consider it a thanks for pulling me out of that mud-river.” I respond back cheerfully, eyes focused on Dean as I smile.

I feel Sam’s eyes going from me to Dean in an almost freaked out way.

“I didn’t know you could do that” He breathed

“If I sat here and listed everything I could do we’d be here for a hot minute” I smirked just a little pridefully.

“Two rooms, please.” Dean asks the motel clerk. By the time we got to a motel it was already morning so it was safe to say we all wanted a little break.

The Clerk picks up the card and looks at it. “Are you guys having a reunion or something?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks as I look between both boys, also confused.

“I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought a room for the whole month.” The Clerk explains, and the realization hits us all.

John.

The motel door swings open, Sam having just picked the lock to John's room. Sam and I enter, complementing his criminal skills while Dean is just outside, playing lookout until I grab hold of his upper arm and pull him inside. Sam closing the door behind us.

Every surface has papers pinned to it like maps, newspaper clippings, pictures and notes. There’s books on the desk and assorted mess on the floor and bed. There’s a line of salt on the floor and half eaten food on the desk.

“I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least.” Dean informs sniffing a half eaten burger.

“Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in.” Sam noted.

Dean looks at the papers covering one wall.

“What have you got here?” I ask, half looking at the junk on the bed.

“Centennial Highway victims.” He replies

The paper showed some of the victims including Mark somebody, William Durrell, Scott Nifong who disappeared in 1987 at age 25, and somebody Parks. Judging by the photos Mark, Durrell, and Nifong were all white males.

“I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs—ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?” Dean asks to no one in particular

“Well it’s not always about the outward stuff could be something more personal in their life, maybe a sequence of events or just something as simple as an action” I inform.

“Dad figured it out” Sam detects, me and Dean turning to see him in front of papers on another wall. Something about Witches, demons, devils, and so on along with an article about the “Woman in White.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks him

Sam clarifies, “He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white.”

“You sly dogs…All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.” Dean comments looking closer at the pictures of her victims while I get more distracted on the clippings about the witches, yes it hadn’t a thing to do with this hunt but I mean come on.

“She might have another weakness.” Sam suggests

“Well, Dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?” Dean counters.

“No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband.”

“If he’s even alive, and he’d be sixty-two by now” I murmur, chiming in.

“All right. Why don't you guys, uh, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna go take a piss” Dean informs.

I scrunch my eyebrows as I say, “Have fun!”

Dean starts to walk away but he stops when Sam starts speaking, “Hey, Dean?…What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry.”

Dean holds up a hand, “No chick-flick moments.”

Sam laughs and nods, “All right. Jerk.” It’s then that I knew that everything between them would be okay.

“Bitch” Dean calls back as he disappears into the bathroom.

I keep looking at the articles on the wall, reading more on Constance victims, but in the corner of my eye I see Sam smiling sadly at a photo he picked up from a mirror frame in the room.

A minute or so later Sam begins to pace the room before opting for sitting on the bed, with his phone to his ear

Dean exits the bathroom half shrugging on his jacket as he says, “Hey, man. I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. Do either of you want anything?”

“No.” Sam answers plainly.

“Oooh! Can you get me some fries?” I ask, getting all excited for some food as I pull out my laptop from my messenger bag ready to find that address.

“Sure thing, baby.” He says throwing me that charming smile and a wink that causes my cheeks to flush. “You sure Sammy, Aframian's buying.”

But Sam shakes his head printing Dean to head out.

I’m just about to start searching on google when Sam stands up suddenly with panicked eyes.

“We have to go, now.”

Sam filled me in on the ride to Joseph Welch’s house, we had to keep going even with Dean arrested.

“Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?” Sam asks the older man

“Yeah.”

Sam had given him a photo, the one he got from the hotel mirror, as we followed Joseph down his cluttered driveway.

“Yeah, he was older, but that's him.” Joseph says, referring to John, handing the photo back.

“He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter.”

“That's right. We're working on a story together.” Sam explains.

“Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?”

“It’s an article about the understanding of young women committing suicide as a result of grief. We wanted to get all the details and even include a case that was more than 20 years old” I said cutting in, my experience as a journalist coming in handy.

“He asked me where she was buried” he deadpanned.

“I’m sorry Sir if our partner came off gruff and unsympathetic, and truly I hate to have to ask you again I mean I know this must still be difficult but where was she buried? It’d be helpful to know it again as a fact check because, as you can tell, our partner isn’t the best with people” I explain trying to come off the exact opposite way that John had.

“In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge.” He answered simply, only seeming a little bothered.

“And why did you move?” I ask.

“I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died,” he replied, I nodded at what he said.

Sam stops walking so I stop not knowing what he was getting at, Joseph then stops too.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?” Sam pipes up.

“No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known.” John reminisced.

“So you had a happy marriage?”

But Joseph hesitates for a beat then says, “Definitely”.

How convincing.

“Well, I think we got what we needed. Thank you, Mr.Welch, for your time and sorry again.” I concluded.

Sam and I turn to walk back to the Impala, but he pauses turning back towards Joseph who began to walk away.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?”

Joseph pauses, turning around “A what?”

“A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?” Sam clarifies.

But John doesn't respond.

“It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really. Um, they're spirits—“

“Sam, What are-“ but my point goes on deaf ears as Sam stalks towards Joseph.

“They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women. But all share the same story.”

“Boy, I don't care much for nonsense.” Joseph says walking away but Sam remains insistent as he follows

“See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them. And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again.” Sam goes on stopping Joseph in his tracks, getting his attention once more.

“You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance? You smartass!” He lectures Sam.

“You tell me.” Sam says, calmly.

“I mean, maybe...maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!”Joseph yells one final time, shaking with anger or maybe grief.

Sam turns walking back towards me.

“That was good Sammy, seriously” I admire his blunt choice patting him on the back.

Sam’s driving when his phone rings, handing it to me to pick up. I put it on speaker phone as a familiar voice rings out.

“Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal.” Dean laughs proudly.

“It was actually Y/N’s idea” Sam clears up.

“Eh what’s one more crime to the endless list?” I say smiling pridefully.

Dean laughs and it bubbles something inside me, something that’s been there for a long time.

But his laugh dies down and he goes serious,

“Listen, we gotta talk.”

“Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop.” Sam informs Dean, catching him up.

“Sammy, would you shut up for a second?” Dean warns.

But Sam continues on, “I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet.”

“Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho.” Dean spoke.

“What? How do you know?” I ask, beating Sam to the question I know he was about to ask.

“I've got his journal” Dean announces

“He doesn't go anywhere without that thing.” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah, well, he did this time.”

“What's it say?”

“Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going” Dean informs.

“Coordinates. Where to?” Sam questions

“I'm not sure yet.”

“I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?” Sam slams the brake causing the phone to fall out of my hand, I whip my head to Sam and then back to the road seeing Constance standing ahead of us, the car doesn't slow quick enough as we halt right as we go through her.

All of a sudden Constance is in the back seat saying “Take me home”

I yelp, having not expected her to just be in the back seat. Next to me Sam is breathing hard, looking at the ghostly women in the rear view mirror.

“Sam? Y/N? Y/N!

[froidefille]

Day 8: rec a fic that was recced to you

📚 The Bolthole by aideomai, Tepre and GallaPlacidia

Draco/Harry, 54k, E

Summary:

Harry is a hoarder, Draco is grief-stricken, and both are capable human adults who can definitely spend a month in a cottage in the Cotswolds together without ever talking about the time they slept together in eighth year. Yeah, no, totally.

Lil story time to kick things off so I can properly convey how excited I am to rec you this fic! Here goes: I was freshly after reading Tepre’s Grounds for Divorce (which made me want board first plane to Luxor) and aideomai’s Far From the Tree (the way I screamed when I realised the final twist) when @sitp-recs reblogged the post with @haxkattpress’s georgeous bind for The Bolthole. Coincidentally, I was also in my Gallapod era at the time (and what an era that was 😭) so just now please take a minute to imagine just how exactly the stars have aligned for my poor fangirling heart at the time when I realised there’s a podfic of The Bolthole narrated by no other than Galla herself, who has co-authored this story IT’S JUST THAT AO3 DOES NOT SAY THAT because Galla went and became a successful published writer. How rude of her :D

So that was more of an inspiration than a rec? But hey, is there a better rec than taking your time and money to create a piece for the text? 🤍

About the story

First things first for us non-native speakers of English:

In this fic Draco escapes London to Harry's cottage in Gloucestershire, where the authors invite us to spend 50k words with them. There is a Major Misunderstanding™ theme which is very enjoyable indeed and the prose is, of course, exquisite.

Still, this fic's best feature in my opinion is how it tells the story of heartbroken, guilt-ridden characters and how they slowly heal. Oh, the way this story has broken my heart into a hundred pieces, only to put it back again in the most delicious way!

Exibit A: Harry has never had the opportunity to actually own much possesions so once he can have his own things he gets so lost in owning stuff that it gets completly out of control. . Draco helps him to get it a bit less out of control and I love it for them. I symphasize with this character so much, because I myself am very attached to objects: I like how they remind me of things, I like how pretty they are and I like having them in my own version of order (which is far from the typical understanding of tidiness, or so my husband keeps telling me 😅).

Exibit B: Draco has lost an OC parental figure and isn’t coping very well. (Harry is not great company at the time either but he is some company and the change of scenery helps Draco manage his grief and I love it for them as well.) The way Harry’s mental state is painted by his house. The contrast of Draco’s need to organize his sourroundings for comfort while Harry needs them to stay just the way they are.

And don’t even get me started on the cupboard under the stairs. Which Harry has barricaded. So Draco just took a crowbar and a hammer and kicked the door open. Which is such a beautiful metaphor for what he actually does here: literally stripping down the walls Harry has created around himself and one box after another makes an order out of Harry’s life.

All the while the feelings between the boys boil, the tension grows. Just look at the emotions in the scene when Draco realizes what the cupboard symbolizes to Harry:

“It’s only a cupboard,” he said. “It can’t hurt you.” Harry looked up at him, then. His eyes were blood-shot. He wasn’t upset, or angry: this one, Draco knew. This one was despair. He’d tried to board something up and the damn thing wouldn’t stay closed. “Ah,” said Draco, delicately. He knew his own despair was self-indulgent, ridiculous, but somehow it seemed wrong to suggest that the same was true of Harry’s. He wasn’t like Ron and Hermione, he couldn’t call Harry out, his instincts were all wrong, and he couldn’t leave him alone, either. He’d never had the knack for that. He took two faltering steps forward and went to his knees before Harry. “I see,” he said, and almost touched Harry—hands hovering. “One of those rare, malignant cupboards. The ones that can hurt you.” Harry’s eyes dropped to the ground, such a small movement, and yet so desperately, so horribly hopeless that Draco was overwhelmed with the dizzying rush of wanting to soothe, to take away all bad things. He couldn’t help himself: he took Harry’s face in his hands. “No, Harry,” he said. “You can’t be this sad. You’re supposed to be angry at me, not sad, this is not the right reaction at all.” And Harry, with a bad failed attempt at a smile: “I’m trying.” “Try harder ,” Draco said, and his hands were moving: over Harry’s face, his neck, restless. To his knees, squeezing him. “You see,” he said, and now his voice shook. “You see, if you keep on being so sad I won’t have any choice but to make violent love to you. It’s really the only option; I don’t make the rules.”

Spoiler: They do make violent love later on. It’s amazing. The intimacy between them and the power dynamics is just so ... I don't actually have words. I’m pretty sure I will remember this one particular scene for a long time (IYKYK😅). If you are into gentle D/s relationships, you are going to melt. Just like Draco did.

To sum up – an amazing read, a gorgeous listen, 12/10. I've put a few quotes under the cut for your heartbreak enjoyment.

Thank you for today @hprecfest and see you in the next one!

That night at the cottage, he found an old desk in the shed, and broke it to use the pieces to board up the cupboard under the stairs. He knew, while he was doing it, how mad he must seem—how mad he was. But the only thought he had was, it’s too small and nothing should be in a place so small. Not boxes, or pets, or food for the pets, or food at all, or anything alive. Not children. Especially not children.

Can someone get baby Harry from the cupboard please? 😭

“Sometimes you need a push,” Draco snapped, looking up. “Instead of a request.” 

That’s what Draco says which I personally hate because I can’t stand other people enforcing their ideas on my order of things (my skin literally crawls as I write these words) but let’s face it – sometimes you do need a push. So then Draco reorganizes the cupboard (oh and almost dies) and it is a breaking point for Harry.

This is terrible,” said Draco into his mug. “Yeah,” said Harry. “Wait. The tea?” “No,” said Draco. He looked at Harry. “This. D’you want to, I don’t know, should we punch each other, or something? Make it more normal?”

Sure, punch your way out of trouble, Steve Rogers would be proud 😅

“We’ve hung out before without punching each other,” said Harry. “It was fine, we had a nice time.” He meant the long, quiet nights in the eighth year common room, that last year in Hogwarts, with Hermione drowsing by the fire over a book and Ron teaching Draco chess—he was very bad at it—and Harry just sort of sitting with them, his whole head echoing with the resounding shock of peace. Sometimes when Ron went to the bathroom or to go make cocoa in the corner Neville had set up or to gently lift Hermione’s hair and sheepishly kiss the nape of her neck, Draco would wave Harry over to the chess board and say in a panicked whisper, “Fix it, Potter!” and Harry would inevitably give him bad advice. “Now you’ve done it,” Draco said, and once, “Well, at least he’s beating both of us now. At last, Harry and I are in the same boat.” It was the first time he’d ever called Harry by his first name.

The warmth of this scene!!

Wait, have I already mentioned that Draco has a crush on Ron in this fic? In a bit platonic way, but anyway, it’s super cute:

In eighth year, Draco had been horrified to discover that he had a crush on Ron Weasley. His solution had been to flirt outrageously so that no one would ever suspect him. It had worked remarkably well. 

[celestialulu]

oooooooo you wanna tell me about nalu kpop au oooooooooooo you wanna tell me about nalu kpop au soooo bad

I feel like this is gonna be hard to do as a lot of the things I thought of bounced off of your ideas lol,, sorry if i accidentally stole ur ideas... anyway heres my thoughts on a nalu kpop au (its gonna be a LONG post i have a LOT of thoughts my baddd):

Well first of all I make a pinterest board for most of the aus I think of, just for a general idea and aesthetic and heres the one i did for that !!

(sorry it may not be that great I just needed some stuff to visualize it lol)

-Honestly i'm indecisive and cannot decide if I would personally put them in a group or if they would be soloists. I do think Lucy would suit being a soloist and it has a lot of potential if she were, reasons like her being from a prestigious family could be interesting with lucy feeling isolated and lonely a lot.

-Following the last point, maybe a lot of people in the industry might not really feel the need to talk to her much or have pre-existing assumptions about her and how she would act.

-Natsu (also a popular idol in the industry) first interacts with Lucy at some award show and he knows of her and loves her songs and performances but in that moment he doesn't really connect the dots and realize it's her, but he knows that she feels familiar for some reason.

-They talk a little and Lucy is surprised as she doesn't speak to many people that aren't staff or management and forced promotional stuff. She's a little awkward and she tends to talk a lot and rant because of that and Natsu thinks she's kinda weird (but in a nice way). They're cut off from that and don't see each other for the rest of the evening.

-Natsu realizes it was Lucy a few days later and no one believes that talked with her.

-They become close friends after being tasked to do a collab stage performance together.

-They practice a LOT, of course because they are hard workers but also because they enjoy spending time together and spending time together outside of work would cause rumors.

-The pure tension they have while practicing some of the moves for the performance.

-Natsu getting hit on the head of how attractive Lucy is after they go all out in one of their final practice sessions when shes sweaty, hair completely sticking out everywhere and wearing comfy baggy clothes which she wore for the purpose of practicing. (and also vice versa for Lucy)

-Natsu and Lucy looking hot (and cute) as fuck on a magazine cover photoshoot together.

-And alternatively, Natsu or Lucy looking hot as fuck for a solo magazine photoshoot and the other seeing it and having their own crisis.

-After the collab stage they aren't able to hang out or meet, even though Natsu has tried to on his on accord but his management has to make sure he doesn't, and although Lucy also misses hanging out with him she doesn't want any rumors to circulate and Natsu makes it his mission to try and find her at any event she might also be attending.

-They text and call a lot. Natsu often gets teased by others because of how much he smiles and laughs while texting Lucy.

-Natsu sends Lucy pictures of ANYTHING that has her on it in public. (posters, magazines, billboards etc etc)

-Natsu and Lucy start to hang out again after Lucy accidentally gets a little tipsy at some event and it's a casual event so Natsu is able to be the one to take Lucy home.

-Then starts the secret meetups, them dressing up in disguises and heavy clothing to even travel to somewhere private like each others home.

-Natsu has the most HIDEOUS disguises btw and Lucy tries to act peeved but she can't help but smile at the silly disguises.

-Lucy attends one of his tour concerts, she wears a bright ribbon in her hair she knows he's seen her wear before hoping he might see her in the audience. He texts her excitedly after the concert asking if she was really there.

-Natsu gifts Lucy matching friendship jewelry for her birthday (could be a necklace or bracelet but for this I like the idea of a necklace more) They both wear them 24/7.

-they hide it for a LONG time… like we're talking MONTHS and then they accidentally slip up and one day people find paparazzi pics of each where the matching jewelry is seen.

-Then they get CRAZY dating rumors like it is EVERYWHERE…

-Lucy is freakinggg the fuck out and Natsu just feels bad because Lucy is so anxious, he couldn't really care less about the public thinking Lucy is his gf but he does get it as rumors like this can damage a career and he knows that.

-They keep silent and carry on as though nothing happened and the rumors sort to die down after a while but theres still those odd few people who believe in it.

-Lucy doing a sexy cunty stage performance on a big big show, and Natsu is attending in the audience and someone slyly filmed his reaction where he is very visibly stunned and very confused about his feelings for her. It circulates social media a lot.

-Lucy sees this video but makes herself believe he isn't into her like that.

-Natsu acts completely indifferent to the video so people won't ask him about it.

-As much as most people would act like he doesn't know Lucy at all after the rumors, on tv shows he doesn't hesitate to sing or dance to her songs publicly.

-People notice how much Natsu and Lucy are very comfortable with each other, teasing and arguing endearingly with each other on a reality tv show.

-They start hanging out publicly without caring after this.

-Them writing lyrics about each other in songs, and Lucy is VERY angsty and poetic about it.

-Lucy getting drunk and asking Natsu "What would we be if we weren't this?"

-Natsu thinks she means career wise, and starts to think of what he would be if he wouldn't be an idol. She clarifies she meant them as in their relationship with each other. He can't answer.

-After that, it's a little awkward. Natsu doesn't know if she remembers. She does. But she doesn't dare act like she does.

-It gets a bit more crazy as they are asked to do another collab stage together after the success of the last one. They accept because, yknow, its like the best way for them to hang out privately without crazy disguises and the like.

-As if the last collab performance was bad enough without the choreography being an average dance this one is WAY WORSE. a lot more contact. a lot more closeness.

-The ending pose of the performance is Lucy laying on the floor and Natsu leaning over her.

-One day, they practice for HOURS straight trying to get it right and perfect the dance. After going all out, and in the ending pose Natsu is looking down at Lucy's messy hair and flushed face and her wide eyes. He kisses her.

-They ditch practicing for the evening and end up making out in the dance practice room for a while.

-Their new collab stage gets leaked when Lucy breaks her ankle and carries her down the street fast as FUCK where there's a really close hospital nearby. He feels bad as they have been practicing so much as an excuse to hangout with each other.

-They basically become "official" after that, but still try and keep it secret from the public. It kinda falls apart after pictures come out where Natsu clearly has a hastily wiped lipstick mark on his cheek and Lucy's neck is littered with hickeys.

-People connect the dots with Natsu and Lucy acting insufferable with each other in public, Natsu cheering his lungs out and supporting Lucy so loudly, and Lucy likewise but a little more restrained than him.

-Natsu once went viral for punching someone trying to get too close to Lucy.

-They never officially state they're together but they don't hide it as much after a while and then in the future one day it comes out that they're literally engaged.

-They have the cutest wedding pics ever and Lucy plays a song she wrote about him before they got together at their wedding.

-Then they're happily supporting each other's activities as a married couple, Natsu commenting and reposting everything Lucy posts and being very loud about her comebacks. Lucy is the same.

This is long as fuck and there's probably so many other things to say but this ended up basically being a whole as story instead of odd headcanons this probably makes ZERO sense. my bad. hope you enjoy anyway <3

[rosemaidenvixen]

Between Daylight and Darkness

Chapter 3

<Previous Next>

Ao3

Toby gripped the edge of his desk, eyeing the door into the room uneasily.

He leaned over towards Mary keeping his gaze on the door “Were you guys able to make any…progress yesterday?”

Mary’s expression turned pinched “No.”

A lead weight dropped in Toby’s gut.

That first night they all stayed as late as they possibly could to try and help, but they’d still had no luck in prying the armor off of Jim. Eventually Jim told them to go home and sleep and try to solve this tomorrow. But the next day he texted them that he was still stuck in the armor and was going to have to skip school. Toby had an orthodontist appointment and couldn’t see him after, but the girls had gone over to his place to try and troubleshoot, only to leave in defeat. The girls had kept him updated through text, but ever since yesterday afternoon it’d been radio silence from Ji–

The door swung open and Jim, dressed in jeans and a jacket and not a trace of armor, hurried into the room and took his seat next to them.

Toby slumped back in his chair, letting out a gusty sigh. Good to see Jim was ok and not sealed up like a tin can.

“Glad you made it in,” Claire leaned forward with a whisper “But how did you finally manage to get that armor off?”

Jim groaned and dragged a hand over his face, heavy shadows under his eyes “I don’t even know. I’ve been pulling and tugging at it all night then an hour ago it randomly popped off,”

Darci blinked “Umm…you did go to sleep after we left, right?”

“Nope,” Jim said with a pop “But I should be fine. I’ve gone all night without sleep before. I can’t do it a bunch of days in a row, but if I get plenty of sleep the next few days I’ll be fine,”

“Well don’t forget,” Mary cut in “Today we’re meeting up with Ms. Janeth to try and convince her to let you work on the play but cut out early,”

Jim slumped on top of his desk and groaned “Oh man don’t remind me,”

Toby patted his shoulder “Don’t worry, we’ll convince her,”

“Either that or I’ll make a complete fool of myself and get kicked out of drama club and become the laughing stock of the whole school, again,”

“That’s it, you know what the penalty for ripping on yourself is,” Toby stretched out of his seat to lean over and reach into Jim’s bag “I get to use your good pen for the rest of…”

Toby froze, eyes going huge “What the heck Jim!?” he hissed.

Jim jerked upright “Wha?”

“You brought the magical armor summoning pocket watch to school!?”

“What? No I left it at home in my des–” Jim moved over to look into his bag, only to instantly go still when he saw the shiny silver and blue object nestled between notebooks, face draining of color.

For a few seconds none of them moved, all staring at the pocket watch in disbelief,  then the object let out a loud click, flashing blue.

“Nopenopenope,” Jim scrambled to close the bag, shoving it underneath his seat “Not doing that,”

At the front of the room Mr. Strickler stood up from his desk and moved in front of the chalk board, signaling the end of the passing period and start of the lesson. Conversations all over the room dying into silence.

Mary angled over towards Jim and risked one more soft whisper “I think going all night without sleep might be messing with your head,”

“You might be onto something there…” Jim mumbled.

Toby knew he should stay quiet, both for keeping the magic on the down low and to not risk Mr. Strickler’s wrath, but the question wouldn’t leave his head and he absolutely had to know.

“So if you were stuck in that armor for two days how did you go to the bathroom?”

“Dude you don’t want to know,”

--

“...so that’s what we were thinking, sound good?”

Toby fought to keep the wide grin on his face, feeling the others shifting behind him as Ms. Janeth tapped her chin thoughtfully. She had to say yes, she just had to. Sure they were bending the rules a little, more than a little, but nothing to–

“I think we should be able to make that work,”

Jim perked up instantly “Really?”

“Of course,” Ms. Janeth stood from her desk with a smile “The fine art of theater should be shared with all! And while I have limited resources at my disposal, I’m always happy to make things more accessible,”

“That’s great,” Claire said with a wide grin. The five of them glancing around smiling at each other in relief.

“Always happy to welcome new blood aboard our cast, however…” Ms. Janeth swiftly turned and picked up a clipboard from her desk “Try outs are in the auditorium in fifteen minutes. So those of you that are aiming for speaking roles had better beat me there,”

They all piped up with ‘got it’s and ‘thank you’s and ‘see you there’ as they headed out of Ms. Janeth’s room.

“Sooo…I’m not trying out for anything, but is it cool if I watch you guys try out?” Jim said hopefully.

“Well duh,” Mary flicked her eyes towards the ceiling “You’re our emotional support, very important,”

Darci snickered “Of course, can’t be reciting memorized lines with any fewer than three people in the audience cheering you on,”

“Actually…would you guys be ok if I skipped out on this one?”

Four sets of eyes turned towards Toby, who flashed a nervous grin back at them.

“I want to raid the science lab for some supplies to test Jim’s…bag,”

Claire blinked “It’s ok if you’re not there for tryouts, but what kind of…equipment do you need?”

“It’ll be easier to show you when we meet up after tryouts,” Toby stepped forward and held out a hand “How about it Jimbo? Is it cool if I borrow your…bag for a bit?”

Jim’s expression was pensive, but he slipped the messenger bag off his shoulder and held it out “Uh…ok,”

“Thanks!” Toby snagged the bag and raced away down the hall “Catch you guys later!” hey flashed them a wave with his free hand, leaving behind four nervous and uncertain faces as he rushed through the hall.

--

Darci followed behind the others, Jim in the lead, as they headed up the steps towards his house.

“Remeber to cover your eyes,” Jim said with a forced chuckle “Toby might have a power sander in there,”

Darci opted to keep quiet at that, mainly because she had no idea if Jim was joking or not.

Jim cracked the door and peeked inside “Hey Tobes? You doing ok in here?”

“Come in guys! I think I’ve figured out something important,” Toby sounded super excited,, and mercifully Darci didn’t hear a power sander.

They filed into the living room to see Toby kneeling in front of the coffee table with the pocket watch and what looked like a random collection of rocks, nails, and screws sitting in front of him “You guys remember Moh’s scale of hardness?”

“A little bit…” Claire said slowly.

“It’s the geological scale by which the hardness of minerals is measured on a scale of one to ten. Chalk is one, diamond is ten, and a human fingernail is two and a half,”

Toby snapped his head up, green eyes flashing, a near manic grin on his face “This thing is harder than all of them,”

Darci blinked down at him “What?”

“I tested both the metal casing and the gemstone face, not even the diamond could scratch them,”

“Hang on, did you say diamond?” Mary stepped closer, eyeing the items on the table hungrily.

“An industrial diamond, that I have to put back in Ms. Lancaster’s room before she notices it’s gone,”

Claire slowly approached, kneeling down next to Toby and looking at the pocket watch with piqued interest “Harder than diamond? That…shouldn’t be possible,”

“I know!” Toby threw his hands up in the air “I thought that maybe Ms. Lancaster got ripped off, but I tested her diamond against the rest of the stuff in her kit and my own diamond, it’s the real deal,”

“Back up,” Mary sank to her knees and shoved herself in between them “You have a diamond!?”

“An industrial diamond!”

Darci and Jim were the only two still hanging back, they shared a look and then Jim took half a step closer to her “I’m going to run up to my room to change, be back in a bit,”

“Got it, I’ll keep an eye on this,” she gestured to the three clustered around the coffee table.

Jim nodded headed up the stairs, leaving Darci to watch Toby, Mary, and Claire buzzing over the pocket watch.

“Shouldn’t it be impossible for anything to be harder than diamond?” Claire said slowly, turning the pocket watch over in her hands.

“Technically there is lonsdaleite, but that’s only really found in microscopic quantities inside meteorites, so I doubt that’s what this is. Not to mention both the metal casing and the gemstone face are clearly made of different materials. There’s a chance the face is lonsdaleite and the metal is some kind of superhard synthetic, but I’ve never heard of anything like that being manufacture,” he lifted his head to peek over at Mary sitting next to him “Unless…”

“No, my research hasn’t uncovered anything,” Mary said with a growl, glancing back and forth between her phone and the pocket watch.

Keeping the three in her line of sight, Darci quietly took a seat on the couch across from them. She debated weighing in before deciding against it. If there was something to uncover the three of them would find it.

“A reverse image search turned up absolutely nothing, I couldn’t even find anything on the writing, not even what language it’s in!”

Soft footsteps sounded behind her, Darci turned to see Jim slipping on an extra large hoodie as he descended the stairs. The two of them shared a glance as he reached the main floor, his gaze flickering to the others before he headed back towards the kitchen.

“I swear it’s like this thing just fell out of the sky!”

Toby’s eyes went huge “Do you think it could be…extraterrestrial?”

“How would we even test for that,” Claire muttered, holding the watch right up to her eye.

“That’s a question for tomorrow,” Jim stepped back into the room holding two large bowls, one full of chips the other full of aluminum cans “It’s been a long thirty six hours and I need a break from whatever that thing is,”

He set the bowls on the coffee table and plucked the watch out of Claire’s hand, striding over to the desk in the corner of the room, dropping it inside the drawer and shutting it firmly before moving back to plunk down on the couch next to Darci “Let’s just have a normal afternoon with homework and videogames and tomorrow we can go back to talking about magic and diamonds and all that,”

“Fine,” Toby said, sliding the rocks and nails back into their case “I’ll pack up the Mohs kit for tonight, Mary no pocketing my diamond,”

“Hey I’ve seen it, you can keep that ugly thing,”

They all settled in on the chairs and couches, Jim pulling the bowl of cans onto his lap while Mary grabbed the chips, Claire pulling out a binder from her backpack.

“You guys have any ideas of what to do for your book reports yet?”

Mary snorted “C-bomb that isn’t due for a month,”

“Yeah I’m not planning on thinking about that until three days before it’s due,” Toby added.

“Hey my top priority is getting a lead role in the play, and that means getting everything else out of the wa–”

An ear splitting crunch bleeding into a metallic clang shot through the room, cutting her off.

They all whipped around to see Jim sitting on the couch with a deeply uncomfortable expression on his face, the pocket watch in his hand and under his teeth.

He pried open his mouth with a wince, the pocket watch dropping down into his lap with a soft thud.

“Oww…” the sound escaped Jim as a whisper, nearly a whine.

For a moment no one spoke, Darci whipping her head back and forth between the pocket watch and the desk Jim had put it in.

“Hang on,” Toby slid closer to Jim “Did you just try to eat that thing?”

“I wasn’t trying to eat it,” Jim mumbled, rubbing his jaw, I thought it was more recycling,”

“...dude how hard are your teeth?”

Darci slowly stood off the couch “I thought you put that thing in the desk…” she made her way to the desk and opened it, finding the drawer empty.

“I…did…” Jim said, eyes going wide “None of you moved it right?”

“None of us touched that thing,” Mary said flatly.

“We all would have seen it if one of us did,” Claire added.

“Did…did this thing teleport?” Jim moved to stand up but was halted by Toby’s hands on his shoulders.

“First things first, let me check and make sure none of your teeth are cracked.

Jim rolled his eyes “Tobes–”

“As someone who’s been in orthodontic hell since 7th grade trust me on this, if you have a cracked tooth you’re gonna want to know,”

Jim huffed but opened his mouth wide, allowing Toby to reach inside and start probing at his teeth.

Darci had a brief flash of a book she’d read as a kid about a mouse crawling inside a fox’s mouth to give him dental work before shaking her head and bringing her focus back around to the object in front of them.

“So exactly what made this thing…teleport?” she said slowly. Saying it out loud felt ridiculous, but they’d seen stranger things happen.

“Let’s test it,” Claire stood from the couch “Jim can I–”

“Here,” he held out the pocket watch, Claire plucking it from his grip.

Shifting her gaze from Jim to the watch, Claire took several steps back. Continuing to retreat down the hall until she was out of sight.

“It’s…not doing anything,” she called out before walking back into the room and setting the pocket watch down on the coffee table.

“Come to think of it TP had it all afternoon,” Mary glanced over at Toby.

“Yeah,” he replied “I was running tests on it for hours and it didn’t move once,”

Jim leaned forward “So then why now did it…”

“Maybe it only teleports for you,”

All eyes in the room swiveled towards Darci, who squirmed under the scrutiny but continued “I mean…it stayed in place for Claire and Toby, but moved out of the desk when you put it in there. And you said you didn’t remember putting it in your bag this morning, so maybe…”

“Maybe…” Jim nodded slowly, picking up the watch to turn it over a few times before setting it back down “Let’s test it out,”

He stood from the couch and backed away out of the room.

The instant he was out of sight the watch popped out of sight in a blue flash, making all four of them jump.

Within seconds Jim stepped back into the room, eyes wide and face blank and pocket watch clutched in his hand.

“You guys see that too?”

“Yep,” Toby said with a pop, drumming his palms against his knees with barely concealed anxiety “We just saw that thing vanish out of existence, unless I’m hallucinating and you guys are just going along with it,”

“Nope, unless we’re all experiencing a mass hallucination that definitely just happened," Darci said, eyeing the pocket watch uneasily.

Claire stood and moved towards Jim, Mary right on her heels “Did it actually move towards you or did it, like, appear and disappear?”

“Appear and disappear…I think,” Jim stared down at the watch while turning it over in his hand “I didn’t see it moving, just one second my pocket was empty and the next this thing was in there,”

“Sounds like it doesn’t move through space, but teleports directly to you,”

Toby hopped off the couch and ran to join them, pulling Jim’s arm down to stare at the object. Not wanting to be left alone in the Darci stood and walked over as well.

“But does it dematerialize and rematerialize?” Toby leaned in until the pocket watch was only inches away from his face “Or does it move through some other plane of existence where distance and physical barriers don’t matter?”

A tiny smile formed on Claire’s face “I’ve got a few ideas on how to find out,”

--

“Alright Darci give me your best shot!”

She grinned, making a show of winding up her arm “Heeeeeey batter batter batter, can’t hit can’t hit can’t hit– swing!”

She threw the watch at Jim with her best overhand. Jim striking it in midair with a perfectly timed swing of the bat, the watch whizzing over her head and into the trees, zooming through the air out of sight.

“There’s the hit…” Jim stepped back, allowing Mary to move in front of him, catcher’s mitt at the ready “It’s going, going…” he reached out to gently grasp Mary’s elbow, moving her mitt up ever so slightly to cover her face. In the distance through the woods Darci heard a whistling sound getting steadily louder.

The pocket watch shot out of the trees and straight towards Mary, landing hard in the mitt making her grunt and stagger back, but still with a triumphant grin on her face.

Darci threw both arms in the air with a cheer “Homerun!”

“If you guys don’t stop butchering baseball lingo I’m going to have to come over there,”

The three of them looked back towards where Toby and Claire were setting up their supplies on the ground of the backyard.

Mary scoffed “C’mon TP we all know you just want another turn being catcher,” she waved the mitt and the watch in his direction.

“Hey two things can be true,”

“Actually I think we’re all set,” Claire stood and dusted her hands off “You ready?”

“Sure,” Jim plucked the watch out of Mary’s glove and approached. He kneeled down on the ground in front of the supplies, the rest of them gathering in to watch “So where should I start…”

Claire swiftly snagged a canvas bag off the ground and held it out towards him “First pack it in this bag with the moly,”

Jim obediently dropped the watch in the bag, dried plants crinkling as he did, and tied it shut.

“Now put it in this steel lockbox,” Toby held the box in question out towards Jim. Jim gently setting the bag inside and clicking the lock shut. 

“Now we bind the box with chains of iron and silver,” Claire handed him a length of chain and some silver jewelry, Jim dutifully winding them around the box.

“And this rosary,” 

“And these iron beads,”

“And this Saint Michael Medallion,”

But the time Jim was done the lockbox was barely visible under all the layers of chains and beads.

Toby stood “Now put the whole thing in the oak chest,” he gestured towards the wide open wooden chest with a flourish, Jim gently setting the box down inside with Claire shutting the lid after.

For a moment they all stood around watching the chest, waiting for something to happen.

Toby shifted from foot to foot “So did it…”

“Nope,” Jim reached into his hoodie and pulled out the watch “Showed up in my pocket in two seconds,”

“Well that settles it,” Darci stepped up and patted the top of the chest “When someone takes that thing away it stays away, but when Jim leaves it somewhere there is absolutely nothing that can stop it from flying or teleporting back to him,”

“Still curious about possible interdimensional travel…” Toby muttered, tapping his chin thoughtfully, only to have Claire nudge him out of his thoughts.

“Hey don’t mean to rush, but can you get my moly out?”

“Oh sure let me just grab the key…” Toby reached into his front pocket only to instantly go stiff. He quickly started going through all his other pockets before slowly turning towards Claire, face red “Ok don’t be mad…”

“You lost the key!?”

“Hey I have it…somewhere, and I’ve got a spare…I think, look I haven’t used that lockbox since I was ten!”

“Do you know how much moly costs?!”

“Ok ok ok,” Toby held up his hands placatingly “You can take the box home with you and I’ll give you the key when I find it, or I’ll find a guy who can pick locks, whichever comes first,”

Claire didn’t say anything, but narrowed her gaze at him as she kneeled down and lifted the lid of the trunk.

Or she would have if the lid of the trunk hadn’t stayed where it was with a soft thud of opposition.

Mary arched an eyebrow “Claire uh…did you lock the trunk?”

Claire’s face went blank “I uh…didn’t know it locked,”

“What!? Nana’s jewelry is still in there!”

“How was I supposed to know it locked!”

“It is your trunk…” Mary mumbled.

“I told her we were just borrowing it for some rocks and minerals homework, what am I gonna say when she wants it back!?”

“Ok guys,” Jim stepped forward and eased himself between Claire and Toby “Let’s just chill for a second. Your stuff isn’t going anywhere,” he gestured down at the chest “You guys can take a few days to look for the keys, and if you get desperate enough I’m pretty sure I can get in there with brute force,”

Both Toby and Claire huffed a bit but calmed down.

Darci cleared her throat “Well hey, we learned a lot,”

“Yeah we learned to always keep track of your keys, and that this thing can teleport back to Jim,” Mary cut in “But we still don’t know what it is or where it came from and have no idea how to find out!”

“Actually…” Jim said slowly “I think I have an idea for where we can learn more…”

He shook his head “But not right now,” he tossed the watch in Darci’s direction, her reflexively catching it.

“Right now I just want to play catch with this thing until we pass out from exhaustion, or the mothership comes back for it, whichever happens first,”

“We can make that happen,” Toby plucked the catcher's mitt from Mary’s grip while Claire grabbed the bat, all of them getting into position.

[luvsfootball]

wildest dreams - aurelien tchouameni.

requested by - @certainsaturn

author’s note - this is specified to an asian reader!

you were panicking.

it was your first time travelling by aeroplane, usually depending on cars or trains. but today you couldn’t seeing as though you were going from valencia to boredeaux.

you were texting your sister who was telling you to just go and get something to eat and stop worrying. after paying, you walked off to a lounge close by where your plane was taking off from.

a boy, around your age, was sitting there, half asleep but trying to keep himself awake. he had a travel pillow wrapped around his neck and you tried to hold in your laughs at how silly he looked.

“excuse me, is this plane flying to bordeaux?”

he opened his eyes at your sudden question, confused for a moment but he nodded. “yes, it shouldn’t be too long now.”

aurelien could sense how nervous you were. “first time?”

“yes. can you tell?”

he gave you a sympathetic smile. he still remembered the first time he flew by plane, and it definitely wasn’t an experience to be remembered.

“what are you going to bordeaux for?” he wondered. “i’m a music producer. going to work with an upcoming artist over there.”

“i’m just visiting family until work starts up again,” he told you, trying to play it cool.

the noise came over the speakers to tell you that your flight was boarding. both of you stood up, and you said goodbye and wished each other a safe journey.

“i’m aurelien, by the way.”

“y/n. it was nice to meet you.”

aurelien was a couple of people behind you in the queue to board and when he got on, he was surprised to see you in the seat next to him.

“well, this is a coincidence,” he laughed, relaxing into the seat.

he figured that if you were going to be sitting together for the rest of the flight, he might as well get to know you for a bit.

“so, where are you from?”

“singapore originally, but when i got my job i work all over. i lstill live in singapore, though. what do you do for work?”

aurelien didn’t want to sound big-headed, but he was surprised you didn’t know who he was. “i’m a footballer. that’s where i’m coming back from, actually. i’m just not travelling with my teammates because i’m visiting my family.”

you raised your eyebrows, double checking him to see if you recognised him but you didn’t. “sorry, i don’t really keep up with sports or anything like that.”

“don’t worry, i don’t keep up with music producing either,” he laughed, cracking a joke to try and make you cheer up because the flight was about to take off.

+

things between you and aurelien were going great and you really hit it off. you both walked to the exit of the airport together, and even exchanged numbers.

“so, y/n. where are you staying?”

“oh, just some hotel. my manager said he was going to set it up for me.”

aurelien pondered on the thought for a moment. if he invited you back to his family home, you could stay there free of charge and he could at least have a friend instead of just him and his parents.

“i know we just met and everything, but do you want to stay at mine? it’s close by and free.”

you had just met aurelien, and he wondered if he was being too pushy or creepy by inviting you to stay at his.

but to be honest, you didn’t want to be alone in a hotel and if his parents were there, surely everything would be okay.

“sure, why not.”

he hailed a taxi and you both got in the back, aurelien directing him to his family home.

it was a beautiful house in the country, with a lake for fishing and even a patch for fruit and vegetables. “my mum takes pride in her house, but she’s a lovely woman. i think she’ll like you.”

his family dog immediately jumped on you when you entered and you cuddled him, leaving aurelien to let his parents know about you.

when his mum came out, she seemed like a really nice woman, rushing you off the kitchen to show you her new plants and things.

his family were extremely welcoming and loved you, constantly telling aurelien that they think you were the one for him.

but he’d push them away in private, telling them you were just a friend and nothing more.

+

it had been an amazing year for aurelien. you were living in madrid for a while due to work when he told you that real madrid want him to play for them.

you were aware of the football club, how could you not be?

they were one of the most decorated clubs in history and you were incredibly proud of aurelien for getting a transfer there.

he had been apartment hunting ever since he touched down in madrid, and it wasn’t going well. so you offered your home to him until he found somewhere.

but there was a problem.

aurelien was bringing back women every now and then. most of the time, you’d spend the night out somewhere to leave them be, but you couldn’t help but feel jealous.

all of the women looked different to you, and it made you upset. you cried on the phone to your sister plenty of times, confessing how you really liked him, more than a friend.

he obviously had a type, and they didn’t look like you.

“hey, is it okay if i bring eduardo over tonight? just for dinner?”

“yeah, sure.”

you didn’t mind one bit. eduardo was a likeable guy and always made you laugh and feel good about yourself.

when he got here, you pulled him in for a hug. he returned it, ignoring aurelien’s little glare and asked how you had been.

you all ordered some takeout food, eating it whilst watching a movie. that was when aurelien’s phone began ringing and he left the room to answer.

you and eduardo listened in discreetly and it was obvious he was talking to a girl. “you like him, don’t you?”

your head shout up, signalling for him to be quiet. if aurelien knew, you were scared it would ruin the friendship and leave. “please don’t tell anyone.”

“i won’t. you know he likes you too, right?”

scoffing, you shook your head and sighed, “i’m not even his type. i’m-i’m just his friend…”

eduardo chose not to touch on the subject again for the rest of the night in front of aurelien, until he said he was going out for the night.

“oh, where are you going?”

“just to see some woman i met on a dating app.”

it felt like your heart had been took out of your chest and stomped all over. you should have been used to it by now, but the thought of him with someone else was upsetting.

“i’ll walk down with you. i’ll see you soon, y/n.”

eduardo kissed your cheek as the two boys left your apartment together.

as they were in the lift, eduardo wanted to help you both in some way. and the only way he could that wasn’t nice, but it would be worth it to see his two friends happy together.

“i was um… i was thinking of asking y/n out on a date.”

aurelien stopped texting the woman, turning his phone off to look at eduardo. “are you serious?”

“yep. she’s a very beautiful woman and she’s kind to me. i think i like her.”

suddenly his date didn’t feel important to him anymore. not after eduardo had confessed that to him.

+

“how was your date?”

aurelien was surprised to see you still awake seeing as though you were supposed to be flying out to america tomorrow for the grammy awards.

if he was being honest, aurelien blew her off. told her some bullshit about ‘a family emergency.’

his mood had totally soured after he had left eduardo and he just walked around town for a bit before coming back.

“i didn’t go,” he confessed. you furrowed your eyebrows, standing up to go and check if he was okay. he didn’t look it.

aurelien was tearing up.

“what’s wrong? did she do something to you?”

“no, no. it’s my fault, really.”

confusion filled you. what was wrong with him?

you grabbed his hands, pulling him into you. it was something you had been doing for ages. whenever he was upset, you’d pull him in for a hug and he’d spill.

but he didn’t move.

he pulled away.

“what is it?”

you were worried. the frenchman sighed and rubbed his face with the palms of his hands.

“i was speaking to eduardo earlier. he-he said he was going to ask you on a date.”

it was news to you. eduardo hadn’t even shown an ounce of interest in you in that sense, and then it hit you. you knew exactly what he was doing.

“and what’s that got to do with your date?”

“it ruined my mood.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms, “why would eduardo asking me out ruin your mood?”

aurelien looked at you like you were stupid. how did you not know that he liked you?

“because i like you!” he burst out, moving towards you now and grabbing your own hands.

“me? you like me?”

aurelien sighed, shaking his head and whispering, “why wouldn’t i like you?”

“i thought i wasn’t your type.”

“how can you not be anyone’s type? you’re gorgeous!”

his words felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around you, sparking fireworks in your stomach that you didn’t even know was possible.

you could tell he was waiting for an answer but you were rendered speechless. never in your wildest dreams did you think aurelien would be stood there, confessing he liked you.

“you are the girl i want. none of those instagram models who love my money. you’re my best friend, and i want us to be together.”

squeezing your eyes shut, you pinched the inside of your palm to see if you were dreaming. aurelien swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down before he said, “i love you.”

“you love me?”

“i’d me crazy not to.”

you giggled and aurelien compared it to sunshine in his mind. “so will you have me?”

nodding, you smiled at him and whispered, “i’d be crazy not to.”

[silver138]

Perfectly Flawed - Chapter 31

word count - 1.2k warnings - none Summary: The team gets called in for another case, and Penny tries to give Lina some advice.

After being lulled into a routine with another delightfully boring week, Spencer and I spend Saturday afternoon on my couch, watching Doctor Who. Just as we're about to start our third episode of the night, Spencer's phone rings.

"Hello?" he answers, then continues. "Hey, Hotch. We do? I'll be in as soon as I can. Bye."

He looks at me with a bit of a tight smile, and says, "Well, we got two episodes in. I'd say that's still a success." I let out a small laugh as my phone rang.

Answering, I see it's Penny. "Time for us to uphold peace and justice again, my young padawan," she says over the phone.

With a small grin, I stand up and start preparing to come in, then say, "I'm on my way, Master Yoda."

There's a small huff on the other end of the line and Penny half-whines, "Awww, I was hoping I was Obi-Wan..."

Snorting, I say, "I'll see you soon, Pen." then hang up as Spencer and I finish getting ready.

Rushing to catch the Metro, we quickly board, and I slide into an empty seat near Spencer.

On the way in, we discussed the episodes we managed to watch. "Y'know, I think I remember a movie that had a similar solution to aggressive alien life coming to Earth, only they were nitrogen-based and destroyed by selenium. They wind up defeating the invasion using dandruff shampoo, since selenium sulfide is the main ingredient used!" I say with a giggle.

He raises his eyebrows and asks, "Oh? Is the movie any good?"

I flush and say, "Ah, well, 'good' is subjective...I think it's 'entertaining', at the very least..."

He chuckles and says, "Well, do you have this 'entertaining' movie?"

I grin and say, "I believe I do. Why, did you want to see it?"

He nods and says, "Yeah, I think I do. If only to see if the science checks out. And to see how 'entertaining' it is."

I snort at that, and say, "Alright, maybe we can watch it sometime. Sound good?"

Spencer grins and says, "Yeah, that sounds good."

Making our way through the building and to our floor, Spencer asks, "So, you're starting your training soon, right?"

I nod and say, "Yeah, probably after this case. I'm nervous, I hope I can learn quickly enough,"

Spencer gives me a small smile and says, "I don't think Hotch would have offered you the choice if he didn't think you were capable. Trust me on that,"

Unsure what to say to that, I just nod and give him a tiny smile back. As the rest of the team started trickling in, we headed to the Round Table to hear the details of the case.

*************

After we finish up the case, Penny gives me a ride home. As she drives and sings along with the radio, I text Spencer.

How was Philly, Doc?

I look out the window, watching the lights blur as we pass by until I hear my phone go off.

Alright, I suppose. Spent more time in the police station than anywhere else, though. How are things back there?

Smiling, I text back:

Oh, same old, same old. So, what was it like working with THE Max Ryan? You sounded really hyped about it when we first came in.

As I wait for a response, I lean my head back and briefly close my eyes. I try to stifle a yawn, and Penny mutters, "Oh, don't you start doing that now..." making me giggle. As soon as I hear the notification, I pull out my phone again.

It was...an experience. He's so knowledgeable. And while I'm glad to have gotten the chance to work with him, I'm ALSO looking forward to sleeping in my bed tonight. And thinking about anything other than the case...

I smirk slightly as I type out my reply.

Fair. I think I'll still be seeing you Monday, at least for the ride in. Hope you have a good night, Doc.

After a few minutes of silence, Penny's voice breaks through my thoughts. "So, how's the Mighty Professor?" she says, smoothly steering the car around a corner.

"He seems ok. Tired, but what else is new?" I say, rubbing my temples to alleviate the tension that grew as the day wore on.

She nods and hums, staying silent for a few minutes. As she slows down to stop at a light, she asks, "So, when do you plan on asking him out?"

I open my mouth to say something, close it, then think for a moment and say, "Probably never. Pen, I have no idea if he likes me like that, and I'm not asking without knowing if he's at all interested in me. I've been burned before, trying to ask out someone I liked without knowing if he liked me back. Pretty sure I'd rather have a root canal than go through that again..." 

She sighs and says, "Lina, come on! You two are practically inseparable, what'll it take for you to realize he likes you?!" 

I huff out a small laugh and say, "For him to actually say those words? That way there's nothing to misinterpret?" 

Penny shakes her head a little and says, "Oh, sweetie. You should probably say something soon, or someone else will come along and snatch him right up..."

"I..." I begin, trailing off as I try to think of how to finish my thought. Sighing, I continue. "I know, but I just...can't, not yet at least. I don't know, it's only been a couple months, and Spencer seems like the kind of guy who takes a while to really warm up to someone. I can understand that, and I don't wanna push him. I just...hope I can tell when he's ready..."

Penny hums and nods her head, and my phone goes off once more. 

I'll try. Have a good night, Lina. See you Monday.

I sigh as I read the text, looking out the window. The car starts to slow down, and I realize we're in front of my apartment building. I turn to Penny, and she says, "Well, you're here, baby doll. Remember what I said. I don't know how much more pining I can watch."

I give her a small grin and a hug, and as I start to get out of her car, I say, "Thanks, Pen. I...I'll try not to wait too long before making a move. I just...really want to be sure, y'know?" 

After sighing, she gives me a nod and waves goodbye to me, and I head up to my apartment for the night.

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[freakshowtwopointoh]

All Bets Are Off

@pinkcrocss suggested this and i had to

“I don’t think the two of you could be closer to each other unless you were literally in each other's skin.” Andre teased, watching as Marie and Jordan readjusted their limbs once more.

“We’re not trying to get closer, we’re trying to get comfortable. The human body is a burden.” Jordan complained, shifting Marie’s body slightly to a better position.

“The two of you are essentially attached at the hip, I’m surprised your brains and bodies haven’t merged together.” Emma added. “You’re lucky I like you, Jordan. Considering you basically stole my best friend and roommate.” That got her a stuffed turtle thrown at her head. “Hey!”

“We’re not that clingy.” Marie protested, but it was such a boldfaced lie that the entire room burst into laughter, Marie and Jordan included.

“I don’t think you guys could manage a day without contacting each other.” Cate teased. And Jordan knew a challenge when they heard one, especially from Cate. Marie gave them a slight nod and they grinned despite the racing of their heart.

“Wanna bet?” Jordan asked, a smirk playing on their lips. And so, the bet was on. From midnight tonight to midnight next Monday, Marie and Jordan weren’t allowed to contact each other. Eye contact or brief conversation in public is permitted, but no texting or calls, and absolutely no touching. The winner takes everyone out that weekend. 

Marie and Jordan would pretend that it was no big deal, which was how the bet ended up lasting for a full week. The rest of the crew had money on who would cave first.

Place Your Bets Here (Emma, Sam, Cate, Luke, Andre)

jumanji: i dont think jor will make it past day 4

cricket: r u kidding? they wont make it past day 2. trust me, i live with marie. theyre always around

magneto: i think we’re all underestimating jordans stubbornness. i think marie will almost make it, but give in after jor does something reckless and she goes to yell at them

cricket: marie might be willing to die (or kill) for jordan but she’d never willingly lose a bet to them.

fuego: tbh i think they’re both too stubborn to give in but they will make it our problem during this week and after

jumanji: yeah id bet extra money that jor will spend at least one night this week in my dorm

kong: [liked cricket’s message]

kong: [liked cricket’s message]

It would take less than twenty four hours for both Marie and Jordan to begin to feel the struggle. For Jordan, it was like a persistent itch under their skin. They scrolled through her minimal social media constantly, or flipping through their camera roll just to see her perfect, sunshiney smile. It was marginally better when they were in the same room as her, but that tested their discipline in a whole different way. They were acutely aware of her every move. It took everything in them to keep their eyes on the board. Their notes were... non-existent. 

Marie had the opposite problem. Life was boring without Jordan, but she knew boring. She could handle boredom. But being in the same room as them and not speaking to them? Not touching them? She could barely look at them. Their eyes were always on her, piercing through her, so obviously wanting her. How was she supposed to stay away from those eyes? She barely looked at Instagram, and came close to changing her lock screen just to avoid the temptation. 

This was going to be a long week.

By the third day, Jordan had walked up to Marie’s dorm before walking away three times, and nearly called her countless times. They had also snapped five pens and three pencils while attempting to focus. 

Cate opened her door before Jordan even knocked.

“I’m surprised it took you this long. Come in.” She said lightly, a small smile on her lips.

“I’m actually going fucking insane. Like honest-to-god, I swear I hallucinated her voice in the library earlier. What has this girl done to me?” Jordan flopped back on Cate’s bed, ignoring her irritated look. 

“You’re just in love.” She said casually, finishing taking off her makeup as Jordan spoke.

“That’s worse, Cate! Don’t you see how that’s worse? I’m not prepared for this.” Their legs shortened suddenly, leaving their feet dangling off the edge of Cate’s bed as they shifted.

“Jordan Li. Did you think you could plan falling in love?” Cate admonished, looking directly into the eyes of her anxious friend.

“I thought I could plan it a bit easier than this!” They whined.

“Maybe you are insane. Do you schedule your other feelings?” She teased. 

“... Sometimes.” Cate shook her head and chuckled.

“Jor, stop fighting your feelings and feel them.” She said seriously, before deftly changing the subject.

Marie was in even deeper denial than Jordan. She refused to admit to Emma that she was coming close to losing the bet - even when it was painfully obvious.

“Marie. Marie. Maaaaaaaaarie.” Finally, she resorted to throwing a pillow at her head. “Stop daydreaming about Jordan and help me film this video for my class.”

“I don’t daydream. I’m thinking.” She retorted, but she was clearly staring at Jordan’s hoodie, which was draped over a chair.

“Yeah, sure. And I’m a math whiz. Now help me.” Emma teased, grabbing Marie’s arm and dragging her out of the chair. She would have an enjoyable evening helping Emma with her homework, but night came and she dialed Jordan’s number for the millionth time before turning her phone off and trying to sleep.

But as it turned out, no one could have predicted the outcome of this bet - the two lovebirds were so distracted trying not to think about the other that they walked directly into each other outside of Brink’s office. Fumbling over their things, handing books and papers back to each other, their fingers brushed and it was all over.

“Fuck this.” they muttered in unison. Jordan helped Marie up before sliding their hand directly into hers and dragging her back to their dorm.

"I missed you, Moreau." Jordan mumbled against Marie's lips, their hands cupping her face. She hummed contentedly, resting her hand on the nape of their neck and keeping them close to her.

They took their time with each other, relearning every curve and edge of their bodies. Marie's skin was covered in hickies and bite marks, a blossoming masterpiece that Jordan could not get enough of. She was theirs. It was addictive. They just couldn't get enough of each other. And every small gasp or moan Jordan made sent desire coursing through Marie, a reminder of the power she held over them.

But Jordan couldn't be kept from between Marie's legs for much longer. Her body was incredibly responsive, arching into every touch. They needed to taste her again, feel her come entirely undone for them. They let their tongue trace along her inner thighs, feeling their own arousal surge as she moaned softly.

"Jor, please-" She whined as their tongue teased her wet folds. They smirked, sinking their long fingers into the flesh of her ass, pulling her closer.

"Patience, princess." They said huskily, unable to keep from teasing her a little longer. But finally, their tongue brushed against her clit, causing her body to buck into their mouth. A dark, lustful laugh came from Jordan's throat before they dove in, their lips wrapping around her clit.

Jordan could honestly spend their whole life between Marie's legs, making her whimper, moan, and cry just for them, putting their mouth and tongue to work. But when she cums for the third time, that perfect, fucked out look in her eyes, they can't help themselves. They're shifting without thinking, pulling away from her center and pulling out their cock.

"Fuck, Marie, I need to feel that tight cunt wrapped around me, right now." They groaned, pushing her back fully onto the bed before they pushed themself inside of her cunt, still dripping with her most recent orgasm.

They were both screaming each other's names all night long.

They’d both say the other broke the bet first. Their friends were just glad they didn’t have to deal with the couple’s pouting for a full week.